The Golden Myth

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2026-08-18 17:18:55 -

The Golden Myth

The champagne flutes clinked with a sound like breaking bones. You stood at the center of the room. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and stale wine. Around you, the guests moved in fluid, chaotic orbits. They were young. They were bright. They were alive. You were not. The room was a ball of white noise. Laughter. Cries. The low hum of a cello in the corner. It all washed...

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