The sun was shining brightly over the courtyard of Bloomfield Gymnasium as Lizzie and Kat settled into their usual table for lunch. The buzz of chatter and laughter filled the air, but the atmosphere at their table was anything but cheerful.

Kat, Claire Archer’s daughter, was excitedly talking about her mother’s upcoming interview and their plans for the High Society Luncheon. "Mom’s interview is going to be amazing," she gushed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "She’s been working so hard to make this luncheon the event of the year."

Lizzie nodded absently, scrolling through her phone. "I’m sure it will be, Kat."

Just then, a notification popped up on Lizzie's screen, and she tapped on it, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Wait, what is this?"

Kat leaned over, curiosity piqued. "What’s wrong?"

Lizzie's face turned red with anger as she watched the video of Beatrice Burchart's interview. The host was effusively praising Beatrice and Kaye, calling them "the women to watch" and highlighting their contributions to the community.

"Are you kidding me?" Lizzie fumed. "This was supposed to be your mom’s interview, Kat!"

Kat's eyes narrowed as she watched the video. "What the hell? How did Beatrice get this spot?"

Lizzie clenched her fists, her voice trembling with rage. "And look at this! She’s talking about the High Society Luncheon as if it’s her own event! And Kaye is getting all this praise. This is unbelievable."

Kat's face flushed with embarrassment and anger. "They can’t just take over like this. My mom has been planning this for months!"

Lizzie's anger only grew as she continued watching the video. "This changes everything! They’re trying to make us look like amateurs."

Kat slammed her hand on the table, causing a few heads to turn. "We can't let them get away with this. We need to show them who’s really in charge."

Lizzie nodded, determination in her eyes. "We will. We'll make sure everyone knows that they don’t belong at the top."

As the lunch period went on, the tension at their table was palpable. Lizzie's mind raced with thoughts of revenge. "This must be why Kaye thinks she can undermine us," she said, referring to Kaye's outburst about the prank. "Kat, you should call her out and put her in her place."

Auden protested, her voice calm but firm. "Aaron said we would leave Kaye and her friends alone."

Lizzie shot Auden an annoyed look. "You're not going to get anywhere with that goody two-shoes attitude."

Liv, who had been listening quietly, spoke up. "Lizzie, Kat, you need to be careful. Wiley is our friend, and that's his mother, Beatrice. If she's rising to the top and exceeding other socialites, maybe we should consider buddying up to Wiley. It's no secret Kaye isn't really interested in high society. We could be the faces of Beatrice's many charities and be part of her upcoming projects if we play our cards right."

Lizzie and Kat exchanged glances, contemplating Liv's words. The prospect of leveraging their relationship with Wiley to gain favour with Beatrice was tempting.

"Maybe you're right," Lizzie admitted reluctantly. "But we can't let them think they've won."

Kat nodded. "We'll find a way to turn this to our advantage. We just need to be smart about it."

Lizzie then had a marvellous idea. "Wait, what’s the name of that girl who’s so obsessed with getting invited to our parties? The desperately annoying one who thinks we should be friends because she’s from a founding family too?"

Auden asked, "Clary?"

"Yes," Lizzie said, a wicked grin forming. "Maybe we can get Clary to tell us everything she knows about Kaye. She’s so desperate, she’d probably betray them in a heartbeat if it meant becoming one of us."

Kat's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "That's brilliant, Lizzie. She'd be our perfect spy."

Liv looked hesitant but didn’t voice her concerns. The idea of using Clary to their advantage was already taking root in Lizzie's mind.

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The tension at their table remained, but a new determination was forming among the group. Lizzie and Kat’s jealousy and resentment towards Kaye only deepened. They knew that the upcoming High Society Luncheon would be their battleground—a place where power, influence, and social standing would be decided. And they were willing to do whatever it took to ensure they came out on top.

Clary spent the day with her friends Kaye and Stasi, feeling increasingly out of place. They decided to spend the day out, starting with a popular restaurant known for attracting the elite of Vhantrosa. As they walked in, Clary noticed how heads turned, eyes widening in recognition.

"Welcome, ladies," the manager greeted them warmly. "Please, have a seat. Your meals are on the house today."

Clary watched as Kaye's face turned into a polite, but unimpressed smile. "Thank you," Kaye replied, leading them to a table.

Stasi beamed, leaning in to Kaye. "See, everyone knows you’re the daughter of the most influential woman in Vhantrosa."

Kaye shrugged, clearly not interested in the attention. "I guess."

Clary, however, felt a pang of jealousy. She watched as waitstaff fawned over Kaye, bringing out special dishes and ensuring they had the best service. The ease with which Kaye received admiration and praise made Clary’s stomach churn.

After lunch, they went shopping at the most exclusive boutiques. The store owners offered them discounts and special treatment, all because of Kaye's connection to Beatrice. Clary watched as Kaye reluctantly accepted the attention, while Stasi praised her mother’s influence.

"You and your mom are amazing, Kaye," Stasi said, her eyes shining with admiration.

Kaye nodded, but Clary could see the weariness in her eyes. "Thanks, Stasi."

Next, they headed to a fun park, where the staff recognized Kaye immediately. They were given free passes and special access to all the rides. Everywhere they went, Kaye was given recognition, and Clary’s resentment grew.

At the fun park, they played various games, rode exhilarating rides, and indulged in cotton candy and popcorn. Stasi continued to chatter about how impressive Kaye's mom was and how much everyone admired her.

"I can't believe how much your family has achieved in such a short time," Stasi gushed. "You must be so proud."

Kaye sighed, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. "It’s not really a big deal."

Clary, however, felt her jealousy intensifying. Each compliment directed at Kaye was like a dagger to her heart. She watched as Kaye received smiles and nods of approval from strangers, feeling increasingly invisible.

As the day wore on, Clary found herself simmering with quiet resentment. She felt like a shadow next to Kaye, her own accomplishments and background fading into the background. By the time they left the fun park, she was fuming internally.

When Clary finally got home, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being overshadowed by Kaye. She stormed up to her room, throwing her bag onto her bed. It was then that her phone buzzed with a new message. She glanced at it, her heart skipping a beat.

"Meet us at the cemetery tonight. We need to talk. - The Elite Society Girls."

Delighted to finally be noticed by the right people, Clary felt a thrill of excitement. She knew sneaking out was risky, but the prospect of joining the elite was too enticing to pass up. That night, she snuck out of her house, making her way to the cemetery.

As she approached, she saw Kat, Auden, Lizzie, and Liv waiting for her. The flickering light of a lantern cast eerie shadows, adding to the sense of mystery and anticipation.

"Welcome, Clary," Lizzie said with a sly smile. "We have a proposition for you."

Clary's heart raced as she stood before them, eager to hear what they had to say. She knew this was her chance to step out of Kaye’s shadow and finally become part of the elite.

Claire Archer sat in her lavishly decorated living room, the walls adorned with trophies of her past triumphs. But today, her thoughts were far from her previous successes. She clenched her jaw as she replayed the events of the morning in her mind. Beatrice Burchart’s interview had blindsided her, stealing the spotlight that rightfully belonged to her.

Her husband, Harold, entered the room, noticing her tense demeanor. "Something wrong, Claire?" he asked, picking up a glass of wine and taking a seat across from her.

Claire let out an exasperated sigh. "It’s Beatrice Burchart. She managed to snag the interview that was supposed to be mine, and now she's trying to take over the hosting of the Annual High Society Luncheon. It’s so unfair, Harold. I’ve been the hostess for the past eighteen years!"

Harold sipped his wine, his expression indifferent. "I don’t see why you’re so worked up about this, Claire. These societal matters have always been your domain. You should sort it out yourself."

Claire's eyes blazed with frustration. "You don’t understand. This isn’t just about the luncheon. This is about our family’s position in society. Think of our teenage daughters, Katherine and Blaire, and our young son, Jacob. Their stance in society is pivotal."

Harold shrugged, still uninterested. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Claire leaned in, her voice urgent. "You have connections, Harold. You can help me get back my position."

Harold shook his head, his eyes already drifting back to his newspaper. "Claire, I’ve never concerned myself with these social battles. This is your arena, not mine."

Claire took a deep breath, playing her trump card. "Harold, the Burcharts live in the old Ferruchi mansion."

Harold’s demeanor shifted instantly, alarm flashing in his eyes. "The Ferruchi mansion? Are you certain?"

Claire nodded, sensing she had struck a chord. "Yes. You know what that means. We can’t let them gain more power and influence."

Harold’s expression hardened, and he shook his head, his voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps you should spend less time with Alana Colby. It’s clear to me that Beatrice didn’t solely get the interview because of her husband's money. I can tell she comes from a family of elegance, evidently so by how she carries herself."

Claire's eyes narrowed. "What are you implying, Harold?"

"I’m implying that the television network probably found out about your lowly past. It wouldn’t surprise me," he said coldly. "You insist on staying in contact with someone like Alana Colby. Their family is from the upper middle class. She shouldn’t even be in the same room as a wife of one of the founding families."

Claire's face flushed with anger and humiliation. "How dare you?"

Harold waved her off dismissively. "I’ve told you before, Claire. Your association with people like Alana Colby will drag us down. Focus on our family’s true status and stop trying to reclaim dominance through petty schemes."

Claire clenched her fists, a mixture of anger and resolve boiling within her. "I will show you, Harold. I will reclaim our position and prove that I am deserving of the status I have built."

Harold sighed, looking at her with a mix of impatience and indifference. "And by the way, my mother is coming to visit tomorrow. Make sure everything is perfect and behave yourself. You know how she feels about you."

Claire's heart sank. Her mother-in-law never failed to remind her that she was a gold digger who had trapped her precious son with a baby. "Of course, Harold," she said, her voice tight. "I’ll make sure everything is perfect."

Harold shrugged, turning his attention back to his newspaper. "You should befriend Beatrice. From what I saw, she carries herself with an elegance that you seem to lack."

Claire’s eyes narrowed, fury burning within. "I’ll prove to you and everyone else that I belong here."

Harold smirked slightly, not looking up from his newspaper. "You do that, Claire. But remember, appearances are everything. Don’t embarrass me."

Claire sipped her wine, trying to quell the storm of emotions raging within her. Her eyes landed on her spot in the upcoming issue of the high society magazine, set to come out the following day. She saw it as a highlight—a chance to show off to her mother-in-law and prove her worth.

She put down her glass, determination solidifying her resolve. "I will show them all, Harold. This battle for social dominance has only just begun."

As Harold left the room, Claire's mind was already racing with new plans. The stakes were higher than ever, and she would stop at nothing to reclaim her position and secure her family's legacy.