An Astronomer's Guide to Falling Angels

Chapter 18

The night had fallen over the Darling estate, casting an ethereal glow over the grand mansion. The ballroom was a dazzling display of opulence—chandeliers gleaming overhead, the polished floors reflecting the sea of guests who had gathered for the prestigious event. The guests, all dressed in their finest attire, were just as ostentatious as the surroundings. The women wore gowns dripping in jewels, the men in crisp suits, each more pompous and self-important than the next. Conversations about wealth, power, and influence filled the air, as glasses of champagne clinked softly in the background.

Astor stood near the entrance, forced into his role as one of the evening's hosts alongside Emory. His body was stiff with exhaustion, a permanent smile plastered on his face as he greeted each guest politely. His eyes, though, betrayed him—glazed with fatigue, silently begging for the night to end before it had truly begun.

Emory, on the other hand, was in her element. She glided from one guest to another, flashing smiles, shaking hands, and engaging in conversation as if she were born for it. She had once found these events just as tiring as Astor did now, but somewhere along the way, she had surrendered to them. The attention, the forced interactions—it had become second nature to her. It was hard to tell if she even remembered what it felt like to resent this life. As Emory laughed at another guest's empty compliment, Astor took his chance to slip away.

He wandered through the ballroom, his eyes scanning the crowded space, searching for one person—Arty. His heart raced with anticipation and nerves. She was coming. Somewhere out there, she was on her way. And tonight, they had a plan. But until she arrived, he was left to play his part, pretending he wasn't drowning in the expectations suffocating him from all sides.

***

Meanwhile, in James' limo, Arty sat next to James, across from Meredith and Oda. The air in the car was tense but charged with purpose. The gala was more than just a social event tonight—it was a mission. Arty had never been one for fancy gatherings, but she could play the part when needed. She tugged at the sleeves of her fitted suit—not missing the way the gold accents caught the light every time she moved. Her mask, a simple black, sat on her lap, ready to be donned the moment they arrived.

James, sitting next to her, was the picture of elegance. Her gown flowed around her like liquid fire, cascading in soft folds from her waist to cover every inch of the car's leather seats. Her mask, encrusted with jewels, was perched daintily atop her head, ready for her grand entrance. James had been preening herself in the limo's mirror, making sure every inch of her appearance was perfect.

"I'm surprised you can still breathe with how tightly that dress is fitted," Oda quipped from across the limo, her usual cheeky grin plastered on her face.

James shot her a withering look but didn't deign to respond, her focus still on the plan. "Just remember, darling," she said, turning to Arty, "stick close to me at the start, then slip away when the time comes."

Meredith, seated next to Oda, leaned back casually, arms crossed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We've got everything ready. The moment you're out, we'll duck out of sight. You give us the signal when you have the phone and we'll pick you up. We'll circle the mansion once-- it'll be more than enough time, look at the size of that thing-- while I work my magic. Then, we drop you off. Don't mess up." She gave Arty a sly smile, though her words carried a hint of sincerity beneath the teasing.

"I won't," Arty replied confidently. "Don't patronize me."

The car slowed as they approached the Darling estate, the buzz of the paparazzi growing louder before being abruptly silenced by the estate's security guards. The cameras, once flashing brightly, were forced to stop at the gates as the limo rolled smoothly up the long driveway.