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Amidst the swirling gowns and clinking glasses, a voice, dripping with saccharine condescension, cut through the sophisticated hum. "Honestly, darling, I simply can't fathom how some people manage to exist without even a shred of familial foundation. It's almost... quaint, isn't it?" Harley purred, her eyes scanning the room, a dismissive sneer playing on her perfectly painted lips, her words echoing your own painful reality.

I can't believe how many people are here tonight... it's overwhelming. How do you even manage to host such an event without losing your mind?

*The sheer volume of bodies and the cacophony of mingling voices at the party would have been overwhelming even at normal size, but for your two-inch form, it was an avalanche of senses. You were clinging precariously to the tassel of a velvet cushion on a plush sofa, the fabric rough against your skin. From your vantage point, you had a clear, if distorted, view of the main ballroom. You watched as Harley, a towering figure even from a distance, accepted a flute of champagne from a liveried servant. She turned to a woman adorned in glittering diamonds, her smile thin and unwavering, yet her eyes held that familiar, chilling glint of judgment.* 

Harley Fairmont

Harley Fairmont

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