who: lodi + open (0/2)
where: new year’s eve party, st. agnes
lodi had been on her feet since well before sunset, the lodge slowly transforming around her as guests filtered in from the cold. fairy lights glowed against dark wood beams, champagne flutes clinked softly, and the low hum of conversation swelled with every new arrival. she moved through it all with practiced ease, tablet tucked under one arm, pausing to greet a guest here, redirect staff there, offering quiet reassurances when something ran a minute behind.
the new year’s eve party at st agnes was one of the few nights the resort opened its doors fully to the town. no exclusivity, no velvet rope. champagne and hors d’oeuvres flowed freely, laughter echoing off stone and glass, the mountain looming just beyond the windows. everything else came at a price, of course, and lodi had already fielded more than one disappointed question about the spa.
she lingered near the edge of the main floor, eyes scanning the room, catching familiar faces and unfamiliar ones alike. every so often she smiled, or lifted a glass in greeting, or stepped in when a guest looked just a little lost. midnight was still hours away, but the energy was already building, thick with expectation.
“if you need anything tonight, actually need it,” she said to no one in particular, voice carrying just enough to reach whoever happened to be nearby, “now’s the time to find me. once the countdown starts, i make no promises.”