Around 10 PM, Felicia grabbed his arm. "Come with me. I want to show you something.
She led him away from the main room. Down a hallway. Into a study that was quieter and more private.
Books lined the walls. Real books. Expensive editions. A desk sat near the window with a view of the Manhattan skyline.
Felicia closed the door. The party sounds became distant and muffled.
"Needed a break?" Alex asked.
"Needed to talk to you without everyone listening." Felicia leaned against the desk. "You're different from them. I wanted to know why."
"I'm broke. They're rich. Pretty simple difference."
"No." Felicia shook her head. "It's not about money. You look at things differently. Like you're seeing something everyone else misses."
Alex was quiet for a moment. Then he decided on honesty. Partial honesty, at least.
"I almost died a few weeks ago," he said.
"Not dramatically. Just slowly. Starvation. Stress. Giving up. When you come that close to the edge, you start seeing things more clearly."
Felicia's expression shifted. Something vulnerable appeared in her eyes. "What did you see?"
"That most people are just going through motions. Following scripts written by someone else. They do what's expected. Chase what they're told to chase. Never stop to think about what they actually want."
"And what do you want?"
"To survive. To be strong enough that I never feel helpless again. To understand how the world actually works instead of how people pretend it works."
Felicia was quiet. She looked out the window at the city lights.
"My father is in prison," she said suddenly.
"Did you know that?"
"I researched you after you gave me your number. Walter Hardy. Master thief. Currently serving fifteen years."
"Everyone knows. They just don't say it to my face." Felicia's voice was controlled but Alex could hear the emotion underneath.
"He was brilliant. Could break into anywhere. Steal anything. Never caught for twenty years."
"Until he was."
"Until he was," Felicia agreed. "And now I'm the daughter of a criminal. No matter what I do. No matter how I act. That's what I'll always be."
Alex understood suddenly. "You're playing the part. Bad girl. Troublemaker. Because if that's what everyone expects, you might as well own it."
Felicia turned to look at him. Surprise flickered across her face. "How did you know that?"
"Because I was doing the same thing. Different script. Same trap. The world tells you who you are and you start believing it."
"So what changed for you?"
"I almost died. Like I said. That tends to clarify things." Alex paused. "But you don't have to wait for that. You can decide right now that you're not what people expect. That you're going to be whatever you choose to be."
Felicia laughed. But it wasn't happy. "Easy to say. Harder to do when your father's reputation follows you everywhere."
"Then build your own reputation. One that has nothing to do with him. Be so successful, so brilliant, so undeniably yourself that people forget about your father completely."
"You make it sound simple."
"It's not simple. It's hard. Probably the hardest thing you'll ever do. But the alternative is spending your whole life being defined by someone else's choices."
Felicia was quiet for a long time. Just staring out the window. Alex could almost see her mind working. Processing. Reconsidering things she had accepted as fixed.
When she finally spoke, her voice was different. Quieter but somehow stronger.
"Thank you. For being honest with me. Most people just tell me what they think I want to hear."
"Most people are idiots."
Felicia laughed. This time it was genuine. "Yeah. They really are."
She pushed off from the desk and walked toward Alex. For a moment he thought she was going to do something unexpected. But she just held out her hand.
"Friends?" she asked.
"Friends," Alex agreed.
They shook hands. Then Felicia surprised him by pulling him into a brief hug.
"We're best friends now," she said firmly.
"Whether you like it or not. I've decided."
Alex couldn't help smiling. "Okay. I can live with that."
Felicia stepped back. Her expression was determined now. Focused. "I need to end this party. Send everyone home. I have a lot to think about and I need quiet to do it."
"You sure? It's not even 11 PM."
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