The velvet gathering

VIOLET

Fifteen minutes. That’s all it took for regret to sink deep into my chest. The second I stepped into the room, I realized I’d made a mistake. Amelia had mentioned the party last night, hyping it up as some exclusive social event—The Velvet Gathering, she’d called it. According to her, it was the kind of party that people dreamed of being invited to but few ever actually attended.

“It’ll be fun,” she’d said, her excitement spilling over. “A night to let loose and forget all your stress. You need this, Violet.”

Against my better judgment, I’d agreed.

Now, standing beside Amelia in the dimly lit ballroom, surrounded by strangers dressed in designer clothes and dripping with expensive cologne, I wanted nothing more than to leave. The air was thick with laughter, clinking glasses, and an underlying tension that felt almost suffocating.

The room itself was a picture of extravagance—crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and golden accents adorned every corner. The satin-draped tables glittered under the soft glow of the lights, each guest appearing polished to perfection. Yet, despite the beauty, I felt utterly out of place.

“You okay?” Amelia asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah… sure,” I mumbled, forcing a smile onto my face.

“This party is actually—” She stopped mid-sentence when a tall guy with a buzz cut and a Budweiser in his hand appeared across the room. Her face lit up instantly. “Hey, Tyler!”

The guy sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips. “Amelia!” he greeted, pulling her into a casual hug. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah,” Amelia said, smiling warmly.

I stayed silent, suddenly missing Ashley with an ache that surprised me. She would’ve been cracking jokes, making me feel at ease. But here, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, I felt like an intruder in a world I didn’t belong to, silently praying no one would notice me.

“And who’s this?” Tyler asked, his eyes narrowing on me with an appraising look.

Before I could answer, Amelia jumped in. “This is Violet, my friend.”

“Oh,” he said, his tone laced with a grossly obvious lechery that made my skin crawl. “She’s… hot. Nice dress.”

I glanced down at my outfit—It was just a simple black midi dress.

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Tyler,” she said dismissively.

“Welcome to the party, girls. Turn up or go home!” he said, raising his beer and letting out a sharp whistle before walking away.

“You heard him,” Amelia chimed, unscrewing the cap of her vodka bottle without a second thought. She took a huge gulp, as though she did this every day, her face not even twitching. “Turn the hell up!”

She twirled around, her lips curling into a grin that seemed to light up the room, before handing me a glass of Cazadores tequila. I’d tasted tequila a few times at parties with Ashley, but it never agreed with me. The sour, bitter taste lingered unpleasantly, and I knew this was going to be no different.

“Oh,” I muttered as I studied the glass filled to the brim, the amber liquid swirling inside.

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed a salt shaker from the counter and handed it to me. “Have you done this before?”

“Tequila?” I asked, unsure if I was missing something.

“Tequila done right,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “You know, with the lime and all.”

I couldn’t help but feel like a fish out of water. Though Amelia didn't seem like the nerdy type,  never strike me as the type to indulge in these rituals. 

I shook my head. “I don’t take it like this back in New York.”

“Cool,” she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she poured salt onto her hand. “You can teach them this when you go back. Now lick the back of your hand, between your thumb and forefinger.”

I felt utterly ridiculous, like I was back in high school, trying to fit in with the cool crowd. But this wasn’t high school; these weren’t students I had to impress. This was a party, and Amelia seemed to have all the moves—everything was effortless for her. I, on the other hand, had no clue.

“Okay,” I muttered, doing as she instructed. My tongue darted out, making contact with the salt. I immediately regretted it, feeling like I was performing some strange ritual I didn’t fully understand.

I looked up at Amelia, wondering what Ryan was doing at this very moment.

“Salt,” she said, passing me the shaker, and I mimicked her movements, pouring a small amount onto the back of my hand. The salt stuck there, the taste already beginning to feel too strong.

“Oh, there’s the limes,” she said, pointing to a basket on the counter filled with slices of lime. “Now grab a slice and hold it with the salt.”

I picked one up and placed it between my thumb and forefinger, waiting for her next move.

“Now?” I asked, feeling more and more out of my depth.

“Salt, tequila, lime,” she answered with a grin. “Go. Go!”

I panicked but did it anyway—licked the salt, threw my head back, and tried to force the tequila down. The bitter taste burned my throat, and I fought the urge to gag. Then, remembering the lime, I bit into it, my face scrunching in response to the sharp, sour juice. But it was too much. The lime shot juice across my cheeks, and before I could even process what was happening, I found myself diving for a nearby sink, spluttering tequila everywhere.

If Ryan ever finds out about this, I’ll never live it down.

Amelia laughed, clearly amused by my mishap. She quickly passed me a can of beer as though it would somehow erase the taste. “One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.”

A few people trickled into the living room, grabbing drinks, and Amelia, seeing her opportunity, grinned at me. “I’m gonna go find someone. Have fun.”

Great, it is just me now.

Sighing, I made my way toward the edge of the room, hoping to find a quiet corner where I could gather my thoughts,the taste of the tequila still lingering in my throat. Maybe I could convince Amelia to leave early, though I doubted she’d be willing to cut her night short for my sake.

You look lost.”

The voice startled me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turned to see a guy standing a few feet away, watching me with mild curiosity. It took me a moment, but then I realized he was the guy who had talked to me in class the other day

“Caleb?” I asked, the name coming to me easily now.

He nodded with a smile, a little surprised. “Didn’t expect you to remember me.”

"Yeah, well... it’s kind of hard to forget a guy who talks to you in the middle of a lecture," I said, trying to keep it light.

He chuckled. "Fair enough.". He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk. “You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here” 

I hesitated, then nodded. “That obvious?”

He shrugged, taking a sip from his glass. “A little. But don’t worry, everyone feels out of place at their first Velvet Gathering. Just stick close to your friends.”

My smile faltered. “Yeah, about that... She kind of ditched me.”

His smirk widened. “Classic move. Let me guess—she dragged you here, promised it’d be amazing, and then vanished the second you got inside?”

“Pretty much.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Sounds like typical party behavior.” He glanced at the crowd again, his fingers absentmindedly tapping his glass. "It's honestly impressive how some people can just disappear when the party starts. Like they’re Houdini or something."

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his analogy. “Yeah, and I’m left behind, wondering what I got myself into.”

“I mean, you’re here now, right? Might as well make the best of it. Who knows, maybe you'll find something you actually enjoy.”

I gave him a small smile. “I guess. Though, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to enjoy about... this.” I motioned vaguely at the wild scene around us, the loud music and flashing lights adding to the chaos.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not a fan of loud music?”

I shook my head, laughing lightly. “I’m more of a quiet, book-in-hand kind of person.”

“Fair enough,” he said, his tone teasing. “But you can’t stay in your comfort zone forever, right? Sometimes you have to take risks.”

I shrugged, unsure of how to respond. The conversation felt easy enough, though the crowd made me feel like I was suffocating. 

Before I could fully retreat, Caleb stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed my discomfort. “You alright?” he asked, his voice suddenly serious.

I nodded, but the movement felt stiff. “Yeah, just... not really used to being in places like this.”

He didn't push, his expression softening once more. “If you want, we can just... get out of here for a bit. No one has to know. We could grab some fresh air or something.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could form the words, someone jostled into us, sending me stumbling forward. Caleb instinctively caught my arm to steady me. His grip lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and as I looked up at him, our faces were a little too close for comfort—too close for the casual nature of the conversation we’d been having.

I blinked, caught off guard by the proximity, but before I could move away, his lips brushed mine in a quick, unexpected kiss.