The Gala Exit

The ballroom was dripping in chandeliers, silk gowns, and conversations that felt like currency. She had laughed when expected, sipped her champagne, even let someone twirl her across the marble floor. But the weight of it pressed in like too-tight sequins.

Slipping away down the side corridor, she found her reflection in the tall glass doors. Her lipstick was perfect, hair flawless, but her eyes restless. Outside, the night was cool, her car gleaming under the valet lights.

She bent down, peeled off her heels, and let them fall down the marble staircase. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she pressed the ignition. The engine roared in defiance of every forced smile she had left behind.

Heels off. Engine on. Escape.