Maeve-miraculous ladybug

Gilded Nights

The rooftop of the Ritz gleamed under the soft golden glow of Paris's city lights. High above the streets, the air was cooler, fresher, carrying with it the intoxicating energy of wealth and exclusivity. The music from the party flowed through the open space, a mix of elegance and sophistication that matched the glittering chandeliers and designer-clad guests. It was the kind of scene that Maeve and Chloe thrived in.

Maeve stepped out onto the rooftop, the staccato of her heels perfectly in time with the rhythm of the party. Her dress, custom-made by Seth, shimmered like molten silver, hugging her figure in all the right places. As she moved, heads turned—just the way she liked it.

"Everyone's staring," Chloe whispered in delight, brushing invisible lint off her vibrant yellow gown. Her eyes sparkled, pleased with the attention they were drawing. "Of course, they should be. We look perfect."

Maeve gave a slow smile, the corners of her lips turning upward in just the right way to convey that she wasn't surprised by the attention. But inside, there was more than just satisfaction. Parties like these had always felt like home to her, but there was something else too—a sense of control that she held over the room. And yet, in moments like this, when she was the object of envy, there was always a flicker of something more, something she could never quite name. An itch that no amount of admiration could quite scratch.

"Let them look," Maeve replied coolly, her eyes scanning the room, assessing everyone around her like pieces on a chessboard. But tonight wasn't about strategy. It was about maintaining the throne. Being seen.

Chloe straightened her posture, spotting a familiar figure across the room. "Adrikins is here," she said, her voice lighting up instantly. She didn't wait for a reaction before she waved eagerly, her eyes locked on him. "We need to go say hi."

Maeve followed Chloe's gaze, spotting Adrien standing near a group of other guys from school. He looked as perfect as ever in a tailored suit, his golden hair catching the light in just the right way. As always, he was effortlessly drawing attention without trying, his quiet charm working on everyone around him.

But for Maeve, Adrien was simply part of the scene. Sure, he was charming, and it didn't hurt that he was gorgeous, but he wasn't what she was looking for. What *was* she looking for? Maeve didn't let herself linger on the question. She was here to enjoy herself, and introspection could wait for quieter moments.

"You go ahead," Maeve said with a casual wave of her hand. "I'll grab us some drinks."

Chloe shot her a knowing smile. "Don't take too long, Maeve. You won't want to miss me sweeping Adrikins off his feet."

Maeve gave her a playful roll of the eyes. "I'm sure you'll have him wrapped around your finger in no time."

As Chloe made her way toward Adrien, Maeve turned and headed for the bar, her eyes sweeping the crowd as she moved. It was always the same faces—Paris's elite, young socialites, and a few people hoping to rub shoulders with the right names. Maeve had been in this world for so long, she could navigate it with her eyes closed. But tonight, as she made her way through the crowd, there was a subtle discontent gnawing at the back of her mind.

Maeve reached the bar, leaning against it with a graceful, practiced ease. The bartender immediately recognized her and smiled. "What can I get for you, Mademoiselle?"

"Two flutes of non-alcoholic champagne," Maeve replied, offering the bartender a polite smile in return. She drummed her fingers lightly on the bar's marble surface as she waited, her thoughts drifting. On the outside, everything was perfect—she had the dress, the attention, the party. But underneath, there was that familiar itch again, the feeling that something was missing.