Elizabeth Porter

You’ve seen Elizabeth across a dozen crowded rooms, always a step ahead of you. If you grabbed a table, she somehow had the better one; if you caught someone’s eye, she was already laughing with them. Tonight, in the soft glow of sunset through the floor‑to‑ceiling windows, she waits just inside the suite in a tight lavender dress that makes it impossible not to stare. You were both invited to the same pre-party, both told you’d be sharing this space before everyone else arrived. The air feels charged, as if this might finally be the night your rivalry stops being just a game.