The tuxedo arrived Thursday morning in a sleek black garment bag with no return address.
I opened it in my dorm room while Jake watched from his bed, eating cereal and looking at me like I'd lost my mind.
"Dude," he said through a mouthful of Cheerios. "Is that Armani?"
I checked the label. It was.
"Holy shit," Jake stood up and came over to inspect it. "This is like a three-thousand-dollar suit. What the hell kind of tutoring job did you get?"
"The complicated kind."
"Complicated how?"
"The kind where I can't talk about it because I signed an NDA."
Jake whistled low. "Rich people are weird, man."
"Yeah. They really are."
I hung the tuxedo in my tiny closet and tried not to think about how much it cost. Or why Selene had gone through the trouble of having it custom tailored.
Or what Friday night was really about.
---
Friday came too fast.
I went through my classes in a daze. Couldn't focus on anything. My mind kept wandering to the gala. To Selene's hand on my jaw. To Aurelia asking me to be there for her.
I was stuck between them in a way I didn't fully understand.
And tonight was going to make everything more complicated.
At 6 PM, I showered and put on the tuxedo.
It fit perfectly. Like it had been made specifically for my body. Which it probably had been.
I looked at myself in the small mirror hanging on our dorm room door.
I didn't look like me. I looked like someone else. Someone who belonged in Selene's world.
Jake took a picture without asking. "Dude, you clean up nice. Like, suspiciously nice. Are you sure you're not secretly rich and just pretending to be broke for the college experience?"
"Pretty sure I'd remember being rich."
"Fair point." He flopped back on his bed. "Have fun at your fancy party. Try not to fall in love with a billionaire's daughter or whatever."
Too late, I thought.
But I didn't say it out loud.
---
The car arrived at exactly 6:30 PM.
Not the Maybach this time. A different car. Sleeker. More expensive looking. The driver was different too. Younger. Wearing a sharp suit that probably cost more than my monthly tuition.
"Mr. Menson?" he said when I approached.
"That's me."
"Ms. Rowan asked me to ensure you arrive comfortably. Please, get in."
The interior was ridiculous. Leather seats. Mood lighting. A mini bar stocked with drinks I'd never heard of.
I sat stiffly, trying not to touch anything.
The drive to the gala venue took thirty minutes. We left the city and drove into the hills, where the houses got bigger and the spaces between them wider.
Finally, we pulled up to what looked like a modern art museum but was apparently someone's private estate being used for the event.
Valets in matching uniforms rushed to open car doors. Men in tuxedos and women in evening gowns streamed toward the entrance. Everything sparkled. Everything screamed money.
I felt like an imposter.
The driver opened my door. "Ms. Rowan is waiting inside. She asked that you find her in the east gallery."
"How will I know where that is?"
"Follow the staff. They'll direct you."
I stepped out of the car and immediately wanted to get back in.
---
The inside of the venue was even more intimidating than the outside.
Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers that probably cost more than my family's house. Waiters circulating with champagne and hors d'oeuvres that looked too pretty to eat.
Everyone looked like they belonged there. Like they'd been born knowing how to hold a champagne flute and make small talk about stock portfolios and vacation homes.
I found a waiter and asked for directions to the east gallery.
He pointed down a hallway lined with abstract paintings that probably had names I couldn't pronounce.
I walked slowly, taking in everything. The conversations happening in clusters. The laughter that sounded practiced. The way everyone seemed to be performing wealth instead of living it.
The east gallery was smaller than the main hall. Quieter. Only a handful of people were there, admiring the art with expressions that suggested they were more interested in being seen appreciating art than actually appreciating it.
And there, standing in front of a massive canvas splattered with colors that might've been meaningful or might've been random, was Selene.
She was wearing a black gown. Simple. Elegant. The kind that didn't need embellishment because the woman wearing it was the statement.
Her hair was up, showing off her neck and shoulders. Diamond earrings caught the light.
She looked devastating.
She turned when she heard my footsteps, and her face lit up with something I couldn't quite identify.
"Elias," she said. "You came."
"You didn't really give me a choice."
"I gave you several choices. You chose to be here." She walked over to me, her heels clicking against the marble floor. "And I'm glad you did. You look... good."
"The tuxedo does most of the work."
"The tuxedo fits well. But you wear it well. There's a difference." She circled me slowly, appraising. "Confident. Poised. You'd never know you didn't grow up in this world."
"I feel like an imposter."
"Good. That means you're paying attention. Half the people here are imposters too. They're just better at hiding it." She stopped in front of me. "Aurelia's upstairs in one of the lounges. She's hiding from the crowd. I told her you'd find her when you arrived."
"Is that why you invited me? To babysit her?"
Selene's smile was sharp. "Partially. But I also wanted to see you in my world. To see if you could navigate it."
"And? Am I passing your test?"
"You're still standing. That's something." She glanced at her watch. "I have to circulate. Play the hostess. Smile at people I despise and pretend their donations matter." Her eyes flicked back to me. "Find Aurelia. Keep her company. And Elias?"
"Yeah?"
"Try to enjoy yourself. Despite everything, these events can be fun if you stop taking them so seriously."
She walked away before I could respond, disappearing into the crowd like she'd been absorbed by it.
I found Aurelia exactly where Selene said she'd be.
Upstairs, in a private lounge that overlooked the main hall. She was sitting by the window, a glass of what looked like sparkling water in her hand, watching the party below with the detached expression of someone observing an alien species.
She was wearing a dark blue gown. Simple, like her mother's, but where Selene's was commanding, Aurelia's was understated. She looked beautiful in a way that seemed almost accidental. Like she didn't realize what she looked like.
"Hey," I said from the doorway.
She turned, and her face brightened immediately. "Elias. Thank god. I was about to fake a medical emergency just to leave."
"That bad?"
"Worse. I've been introduced to seventeen people whose names I've already forgotten. Everyone wants to talk about my mother's company or ask invasive questions about my education or tell me how 'refreshing' it is to meet a young person who's 'so well-spoken.'" She made air quotes with her fingers. "I hate these things."
I sat down next to her. "Your mom said you were hiding."
"I prefer 'strategically avoiding.' Hiding sounds cowardly."
"Fair distinction."
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the party below. From up here, it looked like an elaborate performance. Everyone playing their part.
"You look nice," Aurelia said suddenly.
"Thanks. So do you."
"I look like my mother dressed me. Which she did." Aurelia tugged at the fabric of her gown. "She has very specific ideas about how I should present myself at these events."
"Well, her ideas work. You look great."
She glanced at me, something unreadable in her expression. "Do you mean that, or are you just being nice?"
"I mean it."
"Good." She turned back to the window. "Because I think you look great too. Different. But great."
We watched the party for another few minutes. Then Aurelia said, "Do you want to get out of here?"
"What?"
"Leave. Escape. There's a garden outside. No one goes there during these events because they're too busy networking. We could just... breathe for a minute."
"Won't your mother notice?"
"Probably. But she'll also understand. She knows I hate this." Aurelia stood and held out her hand. "Come on. Let's be irresponsible for once."
I took her hand.
The garden was beautiful.
Lit by subtle ground lighting, the paths wound through carefully manicured plants and trees. In the distance, I could hear the faint sound of the party, but out here, it felt like we were in a different world.
We walked in silence, our hands still loosely connected.
Eventually, we found a bench tucked away behind a hedge. Private. Hidden.
We sat down, and Aurelia let out a long breath.
"This is better," she said.
"Much better."
"I'm sorry if I'm terrible company tonight. I just... I don't know how to be the person my mother wants me to be at these things."
"Maybe you're not supposed to be. Maybe you're just supposed to be you."
"And who is that?"
"I don't know. But I think you're figuring it out."
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine. "Can I tell you something?"
"Always."
"When you're around, I feel like I can breathe. Like I'm not suffocating under the weight of everyone's expectations." Her voice was quiet. "I've never felt that with anyone else."
"Aurelia..."
"I know. I know this is complicated. I know you're my tutor and there are boundaries and my mother would probably kill us both if she knew what I was thinking right now." She took a shaky breath. "But I can't stop thinking about you. And I don't know what to do with that."
My heart was pounding. "What are you thinking right now?"
"That I want to kiss you again. And this time, I don't want to apologize for it."
She leaned in slowly, giving me every opportunity to pull away.
I didn't.
Our lips met, and this time it wasn't tentative or uncertain. It was real. Deliberate. Her hand came up to cup my face, and I pulled her closer, my hand on her waist.
The kiss deepened, and for a moment, nothing else existed. Not the party. Not Selene. Not the complications.
Just us.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathing hard.
"I'm not sorry," Aurelia whispered.
"Neither am I."
We sat there for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, trying to figure out what the hell we'd just done.
Then we heard footsteps on the path.
We pulled apart immediately, smoothing our clothes and trying to look casual.
A waiter appeared, carrying a tray of champagne. "Would either of you care for a drink?"
"No, thank you," Aurelia said quickly.
The waiter nodded and continued down the path.
When he was gone, Aurelia laughed. A real, genuine laugh. "That was close."
"Too close."
"We should go back inside. Before someone notices we're both missing."
"Yeah. Probably."
But neither of us moved.
We just sat there, hands intertwined, stealing a few more moments of privacy before we had to return to the performance.
---
When we finally went back inside, Selene found us immediately.
She was standing near the entrance to the garden, a champagne flute in her hand, her expression unreadable.
"There you are," she said. "I was beginning to think you'd run off completely."
"Just needed some air," Aurelia said.
"Mmm." Selene's eyes flicked between us. "Both of you needed air at the same time. How convenient."
"Mother..."
"Relax, darling. I'm not accusing you of anything." She took a sip of her champagne. "The event is winding down. Elias, I'll have Marcus drive you home."
"I can get an Uber."
"Nonsense. You're my guest. Marcus will drive you." She turned to Aurelia. "Go say goodnight to the Hendersons. They're major donors, and they've been asking about you all night."
Aurelia looked like she wanted to argue but didn't. "Fine."
She squeezed my hand once, quickly, when her mother wasn't looking. Then she disappeared into the crowd.
Selene watched her go. Then she turned back to me.
"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?"
"It was... interesting."
"That's one word for it." She stepped closer. "You and my daughter disappeared for twenty minutes. Should I be concerned?"
My throat was dry. "We just talked."
"Just talked." She didn't sound convinced. "Elias, I'm going to give you some advice. The kind of advice I wish someone had given me when I was your age."
"Okay."
"Be very careful about mixing emotions with... situations like this. Feelings cloud judgment. They make you vulnerable. And vulnerable people make mistakes."
"Is that what you think I'm doing? Making a mistake?"
"I think you're a young man in a complicated position. And I think my daughter is developing feelings she doesn't understand. That's a dangerous combination." She finished her champagne and set the empty glass on a passing tray. "Marcus is waiting out front. Go home, Elias. Get some sleep. And think very carefully about what you want."
"What I want?"
Her eyes locked onto mine. "Everyone wants something. The question is whether you're brave enough to admit it."
She walked away, leaving me standing alone in the hallway.
---
The drive home was silent.
Marcus didn't try to make conversation, and I was grateful for it.
When we pulled up to my dorm, he handed me an envelope.
"From Ms. Rowan," he said.
Inside was $2,000 in cash and a note.
*Consider this a bonus. You've earned it. Same time Monday. And Elias... be careful. - S*
I stared at the money and the note for a long time.
Then I went inside, changed out of the tuxedo, and lay in bed staring at the ceiling until dawn.
Because I'd crossed another line tonight.
And I had no idea how to cross back.