My loves,

If you’re reading this, it means you are one of the chosen — the few I’ve invited to witness the night I have waited for, planned for, and, perhaps, needed more than any of you realize.

This is a night to celebrate how far we’ve come…
how we’ve bloomed…
and how we’ve tangled.

You are the laughter when I needed light.
 The sharp tongue when I needed grounding.
 The hand that held me —
 or the one that let go when the room got too quiet.

Around this table gather friends, family, lovers, mentors, collaborators.
Each of you holds a different version of me in your hands:
The anchor who kept me steady.
The best friend left in the shadows.
The mentor who gave me the blueprint.
The cousins who cleaned up the chaos.
The client-turned-confidante.
The plug who opened every door.
The fire, the finesse, the flaw — all orbiting the same sun.

But here’s what you need to understand:

Even the most flawless bouquet hides a thorn.
Even the most glittering room casts a shadow.
And sometimes…
it’s the hand you trust most that draws the sharpest cut.

This page is your hub.
Over the coming days, I’ll be leaving you gifts —
mood boards to dress the part,
clues to sharpen your instincts,
and perhaps a few quiet warnings for those clever enough to catch them.

Watch the ones who drift to the edges.
Watch the ones who smile too easily.
Watch the ones whose patience has already cracked.

When the final course is served, you will have one chance —
one name, one shot, one winner —
to uncover who ended this night before it ever truly began.

And if no one sees it coming?
Well… the killer always gets the last bouquet.

Watch.
Listen.
Trust no one.

With love —
and a whisper of warning,
xoxo,