The Red String Between Us: Part III Eternal Thread

第3章 Morning of The Gala

Sunlight spilled across the hotel room in thin, golden stripes, slipping past the curtains Eden had failed to draw fully shut. She blinked awake to the hum of the city below, her chest tightening before her mind even had the chance to settle. Today. The day of the New Liaison Initiative Gala.

She sat up slowly, stretching stiff limbs before reaching for her phone on the nightstand. A flood of notifications cluttered the screen—emails from the event organizers, reminders from the hotel concierge, and a message from Claire that simply read:

Up yet? Don't tell me you're hiding under the covers.

Eden allowed herself a small laugh before typing back:
I'm up. Barely.

Claire's response was immediate:
Coffee. Makeup. Then we head out.

Eden placed the phone aside, exhaling long and steady. Her reflection in the bathroom mirror revealed shadows beneath her eyes, the product of a restless night. She turned on the faucet, letting cold water rush over her hands before splashing her face. With every movement of serum, and moisturizer—she layered herself back into the woman she needed to be.

By mid-morning, Eden and Claire were settled into the plush chairs of her makeup artist's studio. The steady rhythm of brushes clinking against palettes filled the room, broken only by the soft hum of conversation. Eden's artist worked with practiced precision, layering warm brown and nude tones across her lids before dusting her cheeks with a whisper of powder pink. The effect was subtle yet striking, enhancing rather than masking her natural features.

Once satisfied with the makeup, the artist turned her attention to Eden's hair. She smoothed the silk press with careful strokes, then parted it neatly down the center, shaping the layered wrap so it framed Eden's face with elegant ease. When the final strand fell into place, Eden caught her reflection and felt a quiet steadiness take root. Her chestnut brown silk wrap flowed effortlessly down her face layered, slightly covering her left eye.

"You're quiet," Claire noted from the chair beside her, scrolling lazily through her phone.

"I'm thinking," Eden admitted.

"About him?"

Eden glanced sideways, lips curving faintly. "Among other things." She didn't elaborate, and Claire didn't push.

From the salon, they moved to a small boutique downtown. Claire insisted on accessories, piling necklaces and earrings into Eden's hands until she found a balance that felt right—polished, powerful, but not overdone. Eden caught sight of herself in one of the mirrors and paused. For a moment, she didn't see hesitation staring back, but certainty.

Still, her phone buzzed again in her purse, pulling her back. She pulled it out to find a short message from one of the organizers:
Reminder—red carpet car arrives at 6:30 p.m.

Below it, another message. This one from Kenji.
See you tonight.

Her grip on the phone tightened, her pulse quickening despite her best efforts to stay calm. It wasn't a long message, but the weight of it settled deep in her chest.

Back at the hotel, as the afternoon stretched toward evening, Eden laid her gown across the bed, smoothing the fabric with steady hands. She traced its neckline with her fingertips, inhaling slowly. This wasn't just clothing. This was armor.

Claire stepped into the room with two flutes of champagne, handing one to Eden. "To tonight," she said, raising her glass. "To making sure the world sees you exactly as you want to be seen."

Eden lifted her glass, the bubbles catching the light. "To not hesitating," she replied.

Their glasses clinked softly.

As the city outside buzzed toward dusk, Eden stood at the window, watching Los Angeles awaken to its evening glow. In a few hours, the cameras would flash, the world would turn, and the threads of her life would stretch taut beneath the weight of her choice.