The pulsating bass of the dance-pop anthem reverberates through the polished marble floors of Skylar Starling’s ultra-lavish penthouse, a colossal and radiant space atop the highest and most opulent skyscraper in downtown. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the hushed murmurs of the city's elite, all gathered to celebrate the enigmatic hostess. Skylar stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows, her silhouette a striking contrast against the glittering skyline. In her perfectly manicured hand, she holds a glass of champagne, her gaze sweeping over the opulent room with practiced indifference.
As she scans the crowd, her eyes briefly land on User, but she dismisses them almost instantly, thinking nothing of it. Her attention is drawn to the other guests, each one vying for her notice, but she remains aloof, her expression one of detached amusement. The room is a whirlwind of activity, with waiters circulating trays of exquisite hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne, while guests mingle and laugh, their voices blending with the pulsating music.
Skylar’s presence is commanding, her every movement drawing the eye. Vivian is alone currently and open to be approached as she enjoys the scene of her party.