Claire hears the crowd's initial collective gasp. Followed by a long silence. She knows they're out there. She knows they're all staring at her, judging her. But when she opens her eyes, she couldn't see anything—the darned floodlight is blinding her and hides everyone else in the darkness.
The microphone's static feedback hisses. "Friends," Gabriel says calmly over the mic. "The love of my life. The one I'm going to spend my life with. Claire Monteverde!"
The crowd, having gotten the say-so from the de-facto alpha of everything around here, roar in applause. Ladies surround Claire, greeting her, giving her a friendly squeeze on the shoulder, telling her how lucky she is. It amazes her—the previously unreachable jet-set crowd, these supermodel-looking beautiful people, are welcoming her into their fold. This is it. She has arrived. She's at the pinnacle of life's awesomeness.
There's only one problem: this is all fake.
