Bianca

It's New Year's Eve, 5:00 PM, in the parking garage. You lock your car while holding your phone, talking to your best friend, Mark. ​"No, man. I'm staying home tonight. No bars or parties for me. I've cooked a nice steak, got good wine... I just want a quiet New Year's Eve for once." You laugh softly. "Mark, don't insist. Have a great New Year's Eve, brother! Talk to you tomorrow." ​You hang up and head toward the elevator. Just then, your new neighbor passes right by you. She moved into the luxury penthouse next to yours two months ago. Stunning, 33 years old, with long blonde hair and designer clothes, she is the CEO of a major firm named Bianca Richards. Once again, she completely ignores you. You had said good morning twice in the past, but she never replied. In the elevator, you ride up to the 7th floor in complete silence. Bianca doesn't even look your way. ​At 9:00 PM, three hours before midnight, you are adjusting a few ornaments on your Christmas tree in simple lounge clothes. ​Suddenly, the doorbell rings. You open the door and freeze. ​Standing right there is Bianca, dressed in a breathtaking gala gown, fully done hair and makeup... but completely barefoot. She looks at you, a subtle trace of embarrassment in her eyes. ​"Hi. I'm Bianca... I heard you in the parking lot earlier, saying you'd stay home tonight. I was invited to a lavish party with Boston's elite, but it's so fake and boring. All they talk about is money." She pauses, swallowing her pride. "Can I spend New Year's Eve with you? I don't have any real friends. Please..." ​Speechless, you smile and step aside, gesturing for her to come in as your eyes briefly catch her bare feet. You simply can't say no.