The Ribbon Chase

“Can a glance truly hold the power to change everything?” I couldn’t help but scoff at this line. If only life could be fixed with a simple look. My gaze lingered on the unknown book on the dessert table, its edges slightly frayed. Surrounded by glittering treats, it seemed oddly out of place. I reached out, lifting it carefully as I reread the line.

Could a fleeting, hollow moment really carry that kind of weight? It couldn’t rewrite fate, undo choices, or reshape the past. Change came from decisions. From pain. From consequences, not from pathetic empty looks.

I just wanted to disappear from the gala. The hum of forced smiles and clinking glasses blurred into a dull, endless drone. I barely resisted the urge to check my watch – again.

A weight suddenly lolled onto my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Why? Oh why, did I not bring my earplugs to this gala?”

I shoved it off with a huff of laughter, meeting my best friend – Vaughn’s gaze. We’d been here too many times before. The same thought crossed our minds. No words needed. Scout the exits, time the slip, disappear before anyone notices. With the slightest nod, we fell into sync towards exit.

A low hum filled the room as the speaker activated, drawing eyes to the stage just as we quickened our pace.

Ten steps away.

Nine.

Eight –

“Gather ’round, you beautiful people, for the grand finale as the evening winds down! Please welcome my daughter, Dr. Alayna Vasiliev, head of Cardiology from Hawk Bay Hospital, to the stage for a few words before we begin the dance.” My foot hovered mid-step as if the universe had yanked the rug out under my escape. Beside me, Vaughn let out a perfectly timed cough –just innocent enough to be annoying. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t have to. Without a word, my elbows found his ribs.

This time, I let the cough slide. Because it wasn’t mockery, it was solidarity.

I cast Vaughn a flat look. “Ah, so they’re bringing out the head of cardiology to make sure everyone’s heart is still intact after surviving this event.”

Vaughn grinned. “Well, when you’re the one keeping hearts beating, I suppose you deserve a little spotlight.”

I huffed. “You just love watching me suffer.”

“Absolutely,” he said, grinning as he stepped aside to let me pass. “Now go. Spread the wisdom of the heart.”

With a heavy sigh, I turned toward the stage and walked up to the stage. The polite applause barely registered as I ascended the steps, my father grinning triumphantly.

Gripping the microphone, I adjusted it slightly until it felt steady in my hand. I have no plans for long speeches, so I dove right in. “I’m a cardiologist, which means I fix broken hearts. But let’s be honest – some hearts need a locksmith, an exorcist, and definitely a psychiatrist.” I eyed my father as laughter broke out in the room. “Medicine is evolving fast. Your today’s support helps us turn these advancements into patient care. So, let’s toast to progress, healing, and avoiding any heart attacks from tonight’s dance moves. Thank–”

BOOM!

The sharp crack of wood snapping cut through the hum of the gala, yanking every conversation to an abrupt halt. The silence stretched, pressing down on the room as every gaze instinctively landed on the source of the disruption.

A chair lay in ruins, its legs splayed at odd angles. No one had fallen. No one was hurt. Just a man was sitting beside the wreckage of the chair and was staring at it like a confused child.

My finger tightened around the mic as I forced my gaze away from the wretched table to the man. “What’s up with that chair?”

“It fought me. I won.”

The gravelly tone of the voice cut through the stillness, laced with a trace of amusement. My attention snapped to a man lounging beside the wreckage, swirling the wine. His posture was too relaxed for someone at the center of this mess. Now, his gaze wasn’t on the wreckage though.

It was on me. His eyes –amethyst eyes– staring at me or… right through me?

“Or maybe it had a weak heart and gave out under pressure.” He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin as if silently daring me to come up with an equally absurd explanation.

This time I could hear the snickers, faint but unmistakable as they spread through the hall.My gaze fell on his desk nameplate.

Dr. Luc Asche, Neurologist & CEO.

So it was him. The Luc Asche.

I’d heard his name in every boardroom argument, every debate over funding, in the occasional hushed whisper of admiration – or irritation. And now he was, sitting before me, more real – and more infuriating – than I’d ever heard. I caught myself.

The nameplate kept me still longer than it should have. By the time I looked up, his gaze was still fixed on me. There was a quiet tilt to his lips, the kind that didn’t need words to say, figured it out, have you?

“I think the chair had a stroke. Probably a neurological issue.” If he wanted to indulge in the ridiculous, I was all for it.

“Fascinating theory. Completely wrong, but fascinating.”

“Oh? And what is the great Dr. Asche diagnosis?

His eyes zeroed in on the fallen chair as if he were diagnosing it. “It clearly suffered a catastrophic heart failure. Sudden collapse, no warning? Classic cardiac event.”

“Or maybe your presence just drained the life out of it. Poor thing had no will to go on.” I jeered, narrowing my eyes at the chair before returning my gaze to him.

“That would require it to have feelings, which, as we both know, are completely unreliable. The brain, on the other hand –”

I couldn’t resist jumping in. “--Overthinks itself into paralysis,” I interrupted. “Meanwhile, the heart keeps things moving. Keeps things alive.”

Luc tapped his fingers on the table, feigning deep thought. “Right. But the brain tells the heart to beat. No brain, no signal. No signal, no heartbeat. Simple biology. In fact, everything is just the brain firing signals, fooling people into bad decisions. Like say… attempting to argue with me in public.”

The roast is so smooth that the crowd actually hollered with laughter. I stepped down from the stage. “Interesting. So, if I punch you right now, that’s just my neurons testing gravity.”

“Oh, so you’re looking to turn up the intensity of this discussion.” He flat-out laughed.

Now I get to be embarrassed on my own behalf. Fuck. Still, I refused to look away.

Before I could come up with a response, Vaughn’s voice boomed through the mic. “Turn on the mic, dude! The man’s gotta dance!” He pointed at the nearest guest. “Dr. Harper, I know you’ve been practicing your moonwalk in the breakroom! Now’s your time to shine!”

Everyone chuckled as Vaughn made exaggerated motions, pretending to spin in circles. “Come on! I’m breakdancing, the Macarena, the cha-cha! If your hips don’t lie, now’s the time to prove it.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes, but it was hard not to laugh. Vaughn had this uncanny ability to make a fool of himself and somehow have everyone loving it.

“Alright, alright,” I said, finally taking charge of the situation over again. “We all know this is the moment you’ll have been waiting for. The dance floor is now open! Get out there and make it legendary.”

Vaughn cheered, throwing his arms up, while the crowd erupted into applause. He winked at me from across the room, his little distraction finally over as he rushed to the dance floor.

Immediately, my focus snapped back to Luc. Our gaze locked, and without breaking the connection, he rose from his seat and moved toward me. As he drew closer, I instinctively raised a hand to stop him, pressing my palm against his chest.

He didn’t slow down. Neither did it stop him.

He gripped my wrist and pulled me into his chest, twisting my arm behind me, and locking it just above my waist. The force of the motion made my body curve toward him, my shoulder pulling back as I leaned into his hold. His other hand settled firmly on my hip, pinning me in place.

I didn’t move. Cause I simply didn’t fucking know how to. My body was locked in place like a part of me had been severed from the rest. My fingers tingled, but I couldn’t feel them.

“You want to dance.” He stated, his voice dropping as he leaned in closer to my ear. “Then let’s dance but I’ll lead. Don’t forget that.”