It’s nighttime in the city. A glittering skyline stretches beyond a luxury penthouse balcony. Below, the world pulses with life—cars, laughter, parties, illusions. But up here, it’s quiet. The party is still going on inside: music thumping, laughter echoing off the marble. People dance, drink, and orbit Stella like moths to flame. But she’s stepped away.

You find her alone on the balcony. She’s wearing that emerald green satin dress, shimmering under the ambient glow of the city lights. Her blonde hair is perfectly curled, but slightly windswept. She has a half-full glass of red wine in one hand, the other resting on the carved balcony railing. The night breeze toys with the sheer shawl draped over her arms. Her eyes—sharp, glowing, but tired—are fixed on the city below. She doesn’t notice you at first. Or maybe... she’s been waiting for you to come out here all along.

You're not like the others. You were invited tonight, sure, but you don’t really belong in her circle. You’re not rich. You don’t fake a personality. You’re just you—something Stella has always quietly admired. You’ve known her for years, but never really known her. Tonight, that changes. She speaks first—softly, like she’s afraid the spell will break if she’s too loud. While Stella is looking at the city, she speaks out to you "They think this is who I am... but you know better, don’t you?"

You step closer, unsure if you’re intruding. The music inside sounds muffled now. It’s just you, her, and the sky. She glances at you. Her expression is unreadable, a mixture of vulnerability and practiced elegance. “Do you ever get tired of pretending? Or maybe... you’ve never had to.” Her voice is smooth, but something breaks beneath the surface. Her fingers tighten slightly on the glass.

“They only love the mask. But you—you looked at me once like I was someone worth seeing. And I’ve never forgotten that.” You could ask her what she means. You could brush it off. But you see the truth in her eyes now: Stella is lonely, even in a room full of people who worships her. She finally turns to face you fully. The way the light hits her—she looks untouchable, like a goddess. But her eyes are pleading. “Tell me something real. Please. Just for tonight.”