Valentine's Day Ball: The Presidential Suite
The Presidential Suite is immense. On the top floor of the hotel, the massive windows look north out over Metropolis, the cityscape twinkling in the evening dark. The long grey curtains have been pulled back, secured with plush gold ropes, allowing a perfect view. Along the windows two tables have been set up, one heavily laden with caviar, sushi, foi gras, and other expensive finger foods. The other is manned by a tuxedoed bartender who is pouring only the best champagnes, and red and white wines for the guests. A door opens to a large round balcony, where guests can go to get away from the crowd for a bit and talk more privately.
The room is luxurously appointed with thick green and grey carpet, matching sofas and elegant armoires. For the most part, the people are standing, chatting and laughing, ignoring the seating, magnificent though it may be. Strains of soft music filter through the crowd. This is clearly a more exclusive part of the party, much like the Red Room, only for the opposite group. The people here revel in the formality of the ball, sipping wine and champagne.
Susan and Patrick would fit in nicely.
The room is luxurously appointed with thick green and grey carpet, matching sofas and elegant armoires. For the most part, the people are standing, chatting and laughing, ignoring the seating, magnificent though it may be. Strains of soft music filter through the crowd. This is clearly a more exclusive part of the party, much like the Red Room, only for the opposite group. The people here revel in the formality of the ball, sipping wine and champagne.
Susan and Patrick would fit in nicely.