The low lighting reflected off the polished rims, casting glints onto the matte black cocktail table in the center of the lounge booth.
Everyone fell silent, watching as the trays were gently placed on the table.
One tray carried a spread of luxurious appetizers: Mini Lobster Sliders, served on butter-toasted brioche buns with Maine lobster tail, tarragon aioli, and microgreens arranged like edible lace; Truffle Duck Croquettes, golden-brown crisp shells hiding the creamy black truffle béchamel center; Chilled Oysters nestled on a bed of crushed ice, paired with a yuzu mignonette and freshly shaved horseradish snow; and Wagyu Skewers, each bite-sized cube of A5 wagyu lightly glazed in sesame and topped with edible gold flakes.
The second tray held elegant flutes and tumblers, filled and ready to be poured: Cristal Rosé Champagne, its faint blush hue shimmering under the ambient light; Lychee Royale, pale and floral with a subtle fizz of champagne and elderflower liqueur; Black Gold Manhattans, rimmed with gold dust and served over a perfect sphere of clear ice; Noir Espresso Martinis, their rich aroma already energizing the air with cold-brewed espresso and vanilla vodka; and finally, a few Cucumber Cloud cocktails—delicate green layers topped with cucumber foam and mint sprigs.
The entire spread was more art gallery than meal, and Liam couldn't help but blink. He'd never seen party food this refined, and it felt surreal to sit at a table with people who thought this was normal.
Kristopher clapped his hands lightly, calling everyone's attention.
"Now that the drinks and food are here…" He stood, his expression lighting up. "It's time."
He turned slightly toward Liam. "Liam, I'm not sure if Stacy gave you the full picture, but we're here tonight to celebrate our friend Matt."
He gestured toward a young man on the other side of the booth. Matt smiled and nodded modestly.
"He's graduating from Harvard next month and will be taking a position in the family business."
The announcement was met with cheers, raised glasses, and a round of enthusiastic congratulations.
Liam also nodded and clapped in congratulations. Graduation was massive. He felt vaguely envious as he would also love to go to uni. But that feeling was vague and fleeting, as it disappeared immediately.
Kristopher sat back down and Matt stood, giving a small bow. "Thank you," he said sincerely, his voice carrying clearly despite the muffled bass of music beyond the booth walls. "It really means a lot."
He paused, lifting his glass before continuing. "Graduation, to most people, means you're finally done with school. But for me, it means my family now expects me to be responsible. It means I've crossed a checkpoint—not a finish line."
He smiled faintly and glanced around at his friends. "What really matters is how I perform once I'm handed the position. The pressure is real, but I'm ready. I want to earn my stripes, maybe even grow a subsidiary into something serious."
A few approving claps followed, and Matt bowed his head once more. "Thanks for being here. Let's get the party started."
With that, he took the bottle of Cristal Rosé, popped the cork with a practiced twist, and began pouring.
He started with himself, then moved glass by glass, making sure everyone had a pour. When he reached Liam, he smiled and offered the flute with both hands—a small but respectful gesture.
"Thanks," Liam said, accepting it with a nod.
The toast was unceremonious but genuine—just a collective raising of glasses before the conversation shifted back to casual chatter.
Liam sipped only a little, more out of social decorum than interest. This would be his first time taking alcohol and he doesn't want to take too much. He was already taking in too much: the setting, the food, the people, the energy.
He reached for one of the Mini Lobster Sliders and took a bite. The taste was divine—sweet, briny, and buttery. The lobster practically melted against the warmth of the brioche.
The others were chatting, laughing, teasing Matt about what kind of suit he'd wear on his first day.
Liam watched, listened. He smiled when he felt appropriate and nodded along when drawn into conversation. But mostly, he observed.
To his surprise, he didn't feel out of place.
They weren't performing for each other. No one was trying to impress. Despite the elite surroundings and background, the group's vibe was genuine. Even their interest in him felt natural, not forced.
He could read people. It was second nature to him after all he had seen and survived. And these kids, privileged or not, were sincere tonight.
It was wildly different from the world he knew—the cold streets filled with betrayals. People there wanted something from you.
Here, no one asked what he did. No one asked what car he drove. Not even when he walked in wearing a suit worth more than some people's annual rent.
He sipped a bit more champagne, tasted a truffle croquette, and let himself settle into the plush velvet seat.
Across the table, Stacy caught his eye and smiled.
He gave her a soft nod in return.
The hours passed quickly.
Between conversations about travel, business school gossip, upcoming summer plans, Liam found himself relaxing.
Matt remained the center of attention, as he should be. His friends toasted him, teased him, joked about him messing up his family's legacy within the first month.
He took it all with grace and humor, and Liam respected that.
Eventually, the food trays were mostly empty, the drinks reduced to melting ice and foam traces. The room had mellowed, the music outside slightly louder now that the night was deep.
Stacy checked the time on her phone and let out a quiet laugh. "It's almost midnight."
Kristie yawned. "I can't believe I stayed up this long without checking my messages."
"No one here's driving tonight, right?" Kristopher asked, glancing around.
Everyone shook their heads.
"Cool. Then I say we crash at the Montreve."
There was a general chorus of agreement. The Montreve was a luxury boutique hotel next door—practically part of the Eclipse West ecosystem. Most of them had pre-booked suites anyway.
Even Liam found himself nodding. He hadn't expected to be included in the plan, but no one even questioned it.
They stood, stretching, chatting about who got which room when Stacy nudged Liam gently.
"Come on," she said. "You're staying too, right?"
"Yeah."
She smiled, pleased.
They left the booth and walked out into the private hallway, the energy calmer now than when they arrived.
Outside, the chill had deepened. The valet took their cars to be parked overnight and a staff member from the hotel helped arrange check-ins.
Within fifteen minutes, everyone had filed into their respective suites.
***
Montreve Hotel – Liam's Room
Liam stepped out of the bathroom, a soft towel slung around his neck. The shower had helped. He felt clean, warm, and strangely… happy.
He hadn't expected to enjoy the night. In truth, he thought there'd be tension. Jealousy. Passive aggression.
But there was none of that. No family names dropped, no boasting, no hidden claws. Just a group of privileged kids treating him like one of their own.
He collapsed onto the bed, letting his body sink into the sheets.
He thought about Stacy. About Kristopher. About Matt's speech. And about how he, the guy with the mysterious system, had managed to fit in for once without effort.
The group's dynamic made him see Stacy in a new light.
He still didn't know what this new life would bring.
But tonight, for the first time in four years, he didn't feel alone.
With a content smile, Liam closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.