"You got selected as one of the candidates to be married to Prince Vachirawit Bright Chivaaree Kingdom of Galicia"
"METAWIN OPAS-IAMKAJORN!!! GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE!! WHAT DID YOU DO THIS TIME!?"
"Mom! what's wrong with you?! Where is the fire?!"
"...
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The stars appear shining extra bright in the dark sky. The mood is like a dream out of fairy tales.
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Sparkling
Dreamlike
Magical
Beautiful
Ethereal
Women on their extravagant gala gown can be seen flaunting their beauties. Men in expensive suits talking to one another while holding a glass of wine.
The countries giants, the rich, the famous.
Why not? Almost everyone is there to impress. To show off, to make themselves relevant in the eyes of their Royals.
The world of the upper class perhaps a little different and seemingly possesses many advantages when it comes to moments like this, but truth is, it sometimes shows the ugly side of wealth. If there's beauty, there is the ugly aspect that perhaps a natural thing in humans nature. Many ordinary people wanted to grasp even the smallest spark on that limelight not knowing how toxic those pretty sparkles can be. How it can burn one's hand. How it can damage one's mind.
Popularity is a precious word that sounds like a charm. It's like a light to a moth. Alluring, satisfying, desirable but in the end, it can be too much, too warm, it's boiling and starting to burn their wings until there's no more.
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