In My Double Digits Era Invitation Novels & Stories

“Invitation for the annual Manhattan fashion week is out and the host, Bukky bear sent an invite. Should I decline it??” Lucas thinned his lips. “How many invitation cards??” “Two.” Justin said naturally. Events like this that was hosted every November in Manhattan,Justin always attended and stayed in public while Lucas always sat in the VVIP section and off camera. This year wouldn’t be different,right? Lucas raised his gaze to look at Justin,he blinked. “Two?? You aren’t attending??” Justin was immediately confused. “Of course,I will attend and represent you like always.” “But it’s two invitations. One for me and the other for Clarissa. How would you get in if it’s just two invites??” Luca

The invitation sat on the vanity, heavy cream cardstock embossed with gold leaf. It looked remarkably similar to the one that had sat on my desk at the old apartment six years ago—the one that had felt like a trap. The Arts Foundation Masquerade Gala. The Plaza Hotel. Six years.

Alex’s POV My phone buzzed again sharply in my hand, the vibration jolting me out of the heated haze of my argument with Julia. I glanced down, still fuming in anger. Unlocking the screen, I saw a message from Richard, the manager in charge of the charity gala. My eyes skimmed the text. “Apologies, Mr. Carter. The previous invitation had a typo. This is the correct one, bring your partner! It’s going to be an amazing night, trust me.” Attached was a sleek, digital invite, the elegant gold font glowing against a black background, promising an evening of glitz, networking, and philanthropy at the Grand Luminary Hall.

"Okay, put it here." "If that's okay, I'll go out first," Malia said, seeing Britney nodding, she walked out of the office. Britney gathered her thoughts and picked up the red embossed invitation, opening it. It was the 50th anniversary celebration of the Jacobson Group, and it was likely that many upper-class celebrities were invited. The event was scheduled for tomorrow evening. At this moment, the cellphone ringtone rang again. He drew apart and connected directly. "Dad."

Instead of answering, he handed me the invitation. I looked down. My eyes immediately found the familiar name printed across the top. DERRICK Below it was an invitation to the upcoming gala. A personal invitation. A direct invitation addressed to Spencer. My eyebrows lifted. “He invited you?” Spencer gave a humorless laugh. “Apparently.” I looked back down at the card. The entire thing screamed money. Gold lettering. Custom design. Private seating arrangements. Exclusive guest access. The works. It was exactly the kind of thing Derrick would spend a ridiculous amount of money on.

In their actions, I find both reassurance and a reminder of the potential dangers that lurk nearby. One day, I receive an invitation that catches my attention. Receiving a business party invitation without the host's name raises immediate suspicion: “Only for Aria Cook. You’re invited as the guest of honor to our exclusive business party at 8 pm tonight at the Fairmont Hotel, Elite Ballroom.”

Dad sang and said to Mom who was seriously blushing. I stood there shocked looking at them both. They surely deserve each other. A writer and a poet. They will actually make a good story. I left them standing there going all lovey at each other. I went and freshened up before I could go down twenty minutes later to have my lunch. After we were done eating lunch, dad passed mom and I an envelope with “ Desilver annual dinner party invitation”. Inside the envelope, it’s an invitation card inviting the whole of us to the annual dinner. The dressing code is silver and black.

Convincing these merchants to engage in less lucrative deals was not easy. "Please show your invitation!" The greeters at the door smiled politely, raising their hands to stop them. "Invitation?" Alexander had not heard about this before, so he turned to Jeremy, motioning for him to present it. Jeremy stepped forward quickly, producing an invitation with a smile, attempting to negotiate, "The three of us came together. Could you make an exception?" The greeter shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, Mister Iversen, one invitation per person. Please understand."

The invitation had been a simple slip of heavy, cream-colored cardstock tucked beneath my door-no return address, only a gold-stamped seal of a weeping willow. It promised the one thing I couldn't find in the suffocatingly polite circles I ran in: total, unadulterated release.

Because it had the word ‘invitation’ written boldly in gold above the paper. Like a child learning how to read, I read the writing out loud. “Good day, Mrs. Joanne. I, personally, am happy to invite you to my private gala at the grand castle in the city center. Which will hold at exactly 8:00 p.m. tomorrow and will feature a three-course dinner, entertainment, and an auction. I look forward to your presence. I hope to see you. Sincerely, Trevor Jones.” And that was it. I flipped the paper sideways to check for any other hidden writing, but there was nothing.