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A light at the tunnel's end

"Make the invitations slots for top A-list celebrities and socialites," Ellen ordered the head maid and planner, as she walked around every corner of the house in a confused manner, "I do not want elites that are thirty five years and above. Minimize the numbers accordingly," she continued.

"I think you might want to invite some people from your high school, and even the elite clubs that you have joined in the past," Emma reminded from the dining room where she sat, to apply glitter nail polish over her newly fixed nails, "Also, remind mum not to invite her clumsy club circle of friends. She has been out of the house since morning."

"I certainly do not want to invite all of them, and that is why there is going to be an online entry where they know their fates," Ellen stated, and stormed out of the dining room again to check how the entire food preparations with the chefs were going, "Yeah. I have repeated it to her a thousand times."

"Your socialism sucks. You literally have no real
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