Who would've thought these were still around today.

I asked myself as we drove through the terrain of the urban jungle. The road ahead of us was scarcely populated. But the few cars cruising alongside us were luxury vehicles of many shapes and makes - their black sheens and silvery accents reflecting the rays from overhead. It looked to be the modern equivalent of horse carriages accommodating nobility. And at first glance, the density of so many of these cars would make one presume some super evil meeting the rich conduct to raise gas prices was happening or something. Reasonable speculation aside, as I enjoyed the voyage toward our destination, I faced my own personal chauffeur for some idle chat to pass the time.

"Well, on the bright side, your littering gave us an idea."

"It's not littering if I'm the one responsible for the vehicle. And besides, I'm the one driving, so I have more need for my visor." Myla replied, annoyed, knowing me bringing up the topic was less because I was genuinely bothered by it and more because it gave me a reason to tease her.

"You know how fragile that excuse is," I quipped back, earning an annoyed grumble, "But still, it was super convenient, so admittedly I can't be too hard on you," I said, leaning my head on the cold window to enjoy the passing cityscape. It was convenient yet also unconventional in a sense. I guess in that way - it fits our own peculiar methodology.

"A ball, huh. I get it's some government event with the recent renovations and everything, but it still feels a little pretentious."

"Isn't that merely your general distaste in the government speaking?" My dear partner replied, having become a sounding board for my conspiracies and beliefs against the true evil of our world - society.

"You get what I mean, though, right? It's not exactly a common practice anymore." I continued.

"Indeed. To satisfy both our curiosities, I looked into it and read there are some parts of Europe which still have them as annual celebrations - particularly Austria." Myla replied in a cold but educative tone. I gave a mildly enthused Ohh before speaking the rest of my thoughts.

"I think it's just the mayor wanting to show off the town's wealth, but what the hell, right?"

"Perhaps, considering that the event's guest list consists of the one-percenters of this city. Although, those organizing it are all hired from the local populace." My dear partner stated part of which I already knew.

"Bingo, and that's where Lady Luck smiles upon us." That was the cornerstone of our entire operation. As a show of good faith to the actual citizens, the local workforce would be responsible for the event's creation. Decorating would be left to those working in house building and interior design. Self-owned food chains and local caterers would satiate the guests' appetites. Small-time bands and entertainers would take the stage to provide a feast for the eyes and ears.

At least, that's what the flyers said.

And, of course, any good event needs to be immortalized.

"In any case, our invitation is seldom guaranteed." Myla voiced with an understandable doubt in her tone.

"Well, the flyer said they needed a photographer, and I'm pretty sure Lily can pass as one of the invitees - worse comes to worst," I replied with a confident wink - doing little to reassure my dear partner. The plan was to get Nash a place as a photographer in the event. Myla and I would then join him and Lily as their chaperones for the evening at the cost of our cheerful fellow's services. We were taking a gamble here, no doubt. But with the strict guest lists and opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, it was a risk we deemed reasonable to take.

"It would've been nice if we could just buy an invite or something."

"Even if it was a possibility, asking that much of them when one is already planning a trip overseas is senseless." My dear partner interjected a fair point, making me ponder another potential positive.

"Hmm, I guess it works out, actually. If Nash does land the position, they'll have to be separated and actively socialize with the crowd. Since Nash will be going around taking pictures, he'll have no choice but to get better at it. And while Lily is definitely worse at handling people, we'll be there to help her out."

"It is possible. But wouldn't that prevent the pair from making this a memorable date? They may become too preoccupied."

"Maybe, but I'm sure they'll have the time. And besides preparing for this, going out and seeing the place. And getting to see each other happily mingle without the other will probably be more memorable than any date we could conceive." I pulled most of that out of my ass, but it was a decent answer to her final worry.

Then again, let's hope it isn't too much of a hassle. We're already meddling a lot as is.

The thoughts I had a few days ago sprung up in my mind and returned as I mulled over my words. I still wasn't sure what to make of it, and our current dilemma regarding a decision as significant as this for a young couple did little to answer my questions. Even so, I decided to deepen the hole which housed those feelings as the mission ahead proved more important. It was best to act and learn from one's mistakes than to have never done or realized anything at all.

And that's my weekly dose of philosophy done. Now, where's my hemlock.

I joked as I felt the car steadily slow down. We then turned and entered the parking lot of what looked to be a Victorian estate. Myla carefully parked it beside a bricked wall housing a variety of vibrant greenery, contrasting with the deep blacks of the vehicles nearby. We exited the car- humid air greeting us along with the Sun, which peaked not only through the clouds but also at the tallest point of the grand building before us. The height of the thing surprised me, as I wasn't paying attention to our drive and wasn't able to spot it from afar. It pierced the skies as high as a building of its style and aesthetic could. We began to walk the path of gravel laid upon the concrete footing, exiting the walls of brick and bush the parking lot enclosed us in. Only when we left the space and approached the base of the structure did I get to truly marvel at the construction. Each brick glowed in the yellow rays, and clay-reds accented with many shades of orange assembled the walls and corner pilasters. Arched windows engraved with geometric patterns lined each side of the building - brightly reflecting the contrastingly modern cityscape it faced. And the final touch was the shrubs surrounding the premises, some tall and pointed, others short and bushy. All of it gave off a rustic vibe, distinguishing itself from the solid grays and whites our eyes became accustomed to.

"A whole heck of a lot just for a glorified ego-stroking session, isn't it?"

"From what I heard, it'll be a venue for any number of events in the future," Myla explained as she too scrutinized the edifice.

"Meaning?"

"It'll be available for rent, though the price is sure to be even more lavish than the location." She continued, holding up her arm to the afternoon star. We crossed the gravel path to the staircase leading to the entrance of the building. As we climbed, I could feel the handrail get colder as we neared the doorway. Opening the double doors, a gust of chilly wind hit us along with orange beams from cage-like lamps. The indoors bore the same air as its shell, drawing a sense of unknown nostalgia with its golden limestone walls and cedar flooring.

"Oh, reception's right here too," I said as we found a spot on the settee furnishings of the large room. We planned to talk with the pair here, but they already had a gist of the idea we had made. With that, I could take a well-deserved physical and mental break and close my eyes for a few minutes-

"Yoooo! aiAI dudes! I swear I remember your names. It's just I wanna be a bit friendlier, y'know?" I could hear a booming voice come from behind me.

I love my job.

I turned from my seat, my eyes still adjusting from being closed, and then reopened so quickly to see a well-built man. He was clad in a white button-up and cinnamon-brown slacks - with a green cotton jacket tied around his broad shoulders.

"Hey, Nash. Good to see you guys came early. Also, just call me Bridger, man." I replied to the cheerful fellow with a cordial nod to accompany my greeting.

"Ah, alright! So the same goes for your partner? Just Myla, right?" However, before said partner could respond - I stepped in with my own answer.

"Nope, she prefers a nickname like Lily."

"Oh, what would that be?"

"Mimi-" I was cut off as I felt a sharp pain on the back of my arm. I turned to see Mimi slowly releasing the point of her pen from its barrel.

Okay, okay, can we settle on Mymy?

A drop of sweat flowed down from my face to signal I was going to relent, prompting Mymy to release her grip on the pen's cap.

"Please ignore his ramblings. Pardon my lack of introduction in our previous meeting. Please, call me Myla." My dear partner stated with a stern face, but the familiarly kind tone she saved for our clients.

Still wondering if I'll ever get the chance to hear that directed to me.

"Roger! We already got to look around the place while we waited. Lily wanted to stay in the main room, so here I am checking if you guys had arrived." Nash explained with a smile. I returned the expression and stood up to continue the conversation on the move. Nash is a photographer, which meant he was an expert at emphasizing and presenting the best parts of a piece. But it seemed to me, at least, that what he saw as his flaw in socializing was what should be his sharpest tool. He struggled to find a proper way to present himself to others, hesitating and asking for assurance in the way he acts, even if the said manner is more than acceptable by average standards. I wasn't quite ready to bring this deduction to the man himself, but I decided to keep it in mind for future decisions. As I observed this, Myla and I trailed behind him silently. Walking the gold-brick walls of the estate - only the light taps of our shoes on the wooden floorboards and occasional murmurs accompanied us.

"So, you think you can handle the job?"

"Well, I hope so," He said with a chuckle, "It looks like I'm not the only photographer anyway. And if you're worried about it, my company was really glad to hear I was taking an assignment like this right before I left. Not that you have to be worried, just wanted to share, I guess." Nash answered my query while maintaining his pace - looking over his shoulder, I could tell from his eyes alone he carried a warm expression.

"Is that so? You seem more than happy about it as well, actually." I continued, making the cheerful fellow pause for a moment before continuing his walk with a slightly lowered posture.

"What gave it away?" He asked with a more subdued tone.

"Nothing really. That or I just didn't think you'd take the offer if you genuinely didn't want to." I gave my reply, which turned Nash silent, drawing my curiosity as he did.

"You're not wrong. I do love photography, it's hard to put into words why I do, but that's why I use pictures." The cheerful fellow further slowed his pace, but this time he also showed his full expression - one of content contemplation.

"In a way, it also became a blessing once I matched with Lily. Our jobs matched well with each other, and we learned to love one another's careers just as much as we did each other." He explained with a nostalgic tone with his hands in his pockets. I admired his sincerity with a genuine smile of appreciation - wanting to praise him for his affection towards his other half and career when Myla perked up.

"To be able to accept and value your partner's career even in the face of separation is a commendable trait, especially seeing as you're not bound by marriage. Rest assured, we'll see your requests through with the same disposition." My dear partner declared with an apathetic gaze, but the weight and kindness in her words were not lost on me. Nash also felt it, and with his steps finally halting, he faced the two of us with a closed-eyed smile.

"Thanks, you guys. Seriously I'm amazed you have it in you to hear someone like me's thoughts out and reply like that. Oh, and you setting us up with the whole party is super cool too." He finished with a grateful nod.

"It's all part of the job, man. We're here to help, after all." Myla joined my side to reassure the cheerful fellow.

"Still, I'm gonna be honest with you. I'm actually worried about Lily. I'm planning to give my all on this job to show her that I'll be fine and that I'm on the top of my game. Maybe that way, she can focus on herself without having to think about me. Oh God, am I being too conscious about this?" He continued as he regained a bit of step again.

Trust me, no amount of consciousness is ever too much nowadays.

I told myself as I gave my reply.

"Look at you spouting all that about work. You still haven't scored the position yet, remember?" I commented as we reached the large double doors of the building's main attraction, the ballroom.

"Oh, shoot. You're right. They told me to be there in like twenty minutes. I gotta go! Lily's waiting in there for you guys! You can't miss her!" And with that, his parting words rang out through the empty halls of the elegant venue. We turned to face the entrance, large arcs of marble brick surrounding the doors - and with a gesture of after you, Myla opened it to reveal the grandeur awaiting us. The rich red hues of the outside housed within them stone bricks - creamy whites with splashes of light tan. The large arched windows let pass the brilliance of the autumn sun - breathing life into the chalky backdrop. With this - large yet slender stone pillars of irregular coloring reached from the cedarwood floor to the milky-white birch ceiling - a satisfying contrast in tints that filled each foot of the room with life - be it high or low. Hanging from the awnings were ethereal sheets of porcelain-white cloth - each forming curved bridges that bent, swept, and intersected to form an ocean of flying waves. Small chains carried the familiar cage-like lamps, ever-so-slightly swaying as they cast their yellow glow - much like fireflies in a jar. Bringing my eyes back to the center, clumps of round tables adorned with the same fabrics dotted the area - each surrounded by rosewood chairs for the guests who were sure to admire each inch of the enchanting setting. And I've saved the best for last - the green. Hanging vines akin to a certain ancient garden climbed up in the roof, atop the solid-white tables, and around the towering stone pillars. Their bushes were decorated and given life with touches of white asters and yellow chrysanthemums. The already aged design was now dripping with natural beauty, which was all but gone from the contemporary sights of the city I called home. It felt as though I was transported to another world, another time. But any estate such as this deserved a worthy Lady to call it hers. In one of the many repeating chairs sat a tall and quiet figure. The sun's glow shined upon her, but she stood unbothered as if her own radiance opposed even a heavenly body. The young woman's glossy black hair twisted and turned every which way yet each strand eventually landed on her exposed shoulders, melting together with the black folds of her sleeveless turtleneck. She was by far the most breathtaking ornament in the room - even with only her upper body in sight - and with each brick and leaf that surrounded her, it was as if an angel had shown me the path to the Garden of Eden.

What is she, an angel or the modern noblewoman? I can't decide, pretty thing in sight, brain struggling.

And with a bewildered mind of pure and non-lustful admiration, we took our first steps toward our most gorgeous client.

But seriously, that top is doing her curves some justice. Can I get an Ame-