Perfect Scandal

The glitz and glamour of Alistair Gomez’s pre-Christmas Eve party lit up the entire floor of the luxurious Manhattan high-rise. The penthouse, bathed in hues of gold and silver, shimmered as celebrities and influencers mingled, their laughter and voices blending with the bass of the carefully curated playlist. Ali stood at the center of it all, the epitome of Hollywood’s golden boy. His tailored suit hugged his tall frame perfectly, and his dark hair was swept back, revealing a jawline that photographers loved to capture. He raised his glass of champagne, his dazzling smile reflected in the lenses of countless cameras. “Thank you all for being here tonight!” Ali’s voice boomed over the speakers, sparking a fresh wave of cheers. “This party is for all of you—my friends, supporters, and everyone who has been a part of this amazing year. And, of course, here’s to what’s next: co-hosting the New Year’s Eve countdown in New York!” Applause erupted, a cacophony of cheers and clinking glasses that reverberated through the expansive room and out into the hallway. For Ali, it was another moment of glory, a testament to the years of relentless work and carefully built reputation. But not everyone shared his joy. Just down the hall, behind a closed door marked *18B*, Riley Daemons sat cross-legged on the floor of her modest apartment, her hands clasped tightly in frustration. She wore an old, oversized sweater, her brown hair tied in a messy bun as she bent over a small notebook filled with handwritten prayers. Each line blurred into the next as the pounding music from next door rattled her concentration. Riley squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She had always been a woman of resilience, someone who had clawed her way through failed jobs and empty dreams. But tonight was different. Tonight, she needed peace. She was preparing to step into a new chapter—joining a convent and leaving behind the city that never quite felt like home. But that peace was impossible with Alistair Gomez throwing what felt like a rave on the other side of the wall. She tried to focus on the prayer in front of her. *Lord, guide me through the noise of this world...* The irony of those words made her jaw clench. She stood abruptly, the notebook dropping to the floor. The thumping bass had become unbearable, each beat like a hammer against her skull. “Enough,” she muttered. Riley paced the length of her small living room, the decorations from past holidays—a few string lights and a dusty nativity scene—mockingly serene. With a huff, she grabbed her phone and dialed the front desk. “Good evening, how can I assist you?” The receptionist’s voice was pleasant, too pleasant for the situation. “This is Riley Daemons from 18B. I’d like to file a noise complaint. My neighbor’s party is completely out of hand.” There was a brief pause before the receptionist spoke again, a touch of discomfort in her tone. “Ms. Daemons, I’m afraid Mr. Gomez has already received permission from management for tonight’s event. It’s part of his preparations for the upcoming New Year’s Eve hosting.” Riley’s hand clenched around the phone, her knuckles turning white. “Permission or not, it’s unacceptable! I’m sure I’m not the only one complaining.” There was another pause, longer this time. “Actually, Ms. Daemons, you are. Most of the residents are either attending Mr. Gomez’s party or are out of town for the holidays. I’m sorry, but there’s not much we can do.” The words stung, leaving her momentarily speechless. Riley had seen the invitation tucked under her door a few days ago. She had assumed it was some promotional flyer, so she’d tossed it into the recycling bin without a second thought. She could have been there, surrounded by celebrities and glamorous people. But the idea made her skin crawl. The world Ali thrived in was not for her. “Fine,” she snapped, hanging up. The silence in her apartment seemed to mock her frustration, punctuated by the muffled sounds of laughter and music from the next room. Riley glanced at the thin wall that separated her from the chaos. In that moment, a battle raged within her—retreat and endure or confront the problem head-on. She had always been one to avoid conflict, to find another way. But tonight, with her resolve already fragile from months of uncertainty and the weight of the choice she was about to make, she felt her patience snap. “I guess I’m doing this,” she muttered to herself, pulling on a pair of worn-out slippers and making her way to her door. The hallway outside was quiet, the only noise coming from the slightly ajar door of Ali’s penthouse. Light and music spilled out, bathing the corridor in flickering shades of blue and gold. Riley swallowed, mustering the courage she usually reserved for situations that mattered—job interviews, big life decisions, arguments with stubborn cab drivers. This was different. This was personal. She raised her fist and knocked sharply on Ali’s door. The sound was swallowed by the music, but within moments, someone noticed her. A young assistant, wearing a headset and holding a clipboard, appeared in the doorway. She glanced at Riley with polite confusion. “Hi, can I help you?” “Yes, I’m Riley. I live next door. I need to speak with Mr. Gomez,” she said, raising her voice to compete with the thumping bass. The assistant hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. “He’s in the middle of the party, but I can—” “I won’t take much of his time,” Riley interrupted, her eyes fierce. “Just tell him his neighbor is here.” The assistant nodded reluctantly and disappeared into the crowd. Riley waited, her heart pounding harder with every second. The lights from inside cast moving shadows on the hallway walls, dancing in time with the music. Moments later, Ali appeared in the doorway, looking every bit the movie star he was. Up close, he was even more striking than in the tabloids, with dark eyes that held a glimmer of curiosity as he took in the sight of Riley. He tilted his head, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, well,” he said, voice warm and teasing. “The mysterious neighbor finally makes an appearance. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Riley’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t a social call, Mr. Gomez. Your party is way too loud. I can’t focus, and I’ve tried everything. I even called the front desk.” Ali chuckled, the sound rich and deep, like he’d just heard the punchline of a joke only he understood. “Oh, so that was you? I thought my party would be neighborly enough to make everyone happy.” “It’s not,” Riley said flatly. “Some of us have other things to do, and not all of us are thrilled by impromptu concerts.” Ali’s smile faltered slightly, and he nodded with a hint of sincerity. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just… the holidays, you know? Wanted to give everyone a night to remember.” “Great. Mission accomplished,” Riley said, crossing her arms. “Now, could you tone it down a bit?” Ali’s gaze shifted from teasing to thoughtful as he regarded her, taking in the hint of exhaustion on her face, the determined set of her jaw. She was beautiful in an understated way, and Ali couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. This was more than just a complaint—it was a woman trying to reclaim her peace in the face of chaos. “Alright, Riley,” he said, finally. “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll ask the DJ to turn it down a notch.” She blinked, caught off guard by his willingness to compromise. “Thank you,” she said, her voice softer now, less sharp. Ali’s smile returned, more genuine this time. “No problem. And, for what it’s worth, you’re welcome to join. The invitation still stands.” Riley’s eyes darted past him to the glamorous crowd, the clinking glasses and flashing cameras. “No, thanks,” she said, shaking her head. “I think I’ll pass.” “Fair enough,” Ali replied, tipping his glass to her before disappearing back inside. Riley turned away, feeling a mix of victory and something she couldn’t quite place. She closed the door of her apartment behind her and returned to her spot on the floor, picking up her notebook with a sigh of relief. The thumping music had softened, still present but no longer overwhelming. The night, it seemed, was hers again. But as Riley tried to refocus on the lines of her prayer, the image of Ali’s smile lingered in her mind longer than she expected, carrying with it the strange sensation that this night was just the beginning of something she couldn’t foresee.