The building was glass and steel and silence.
Elián sat in the waiting room, surrounded by people who looked like they belonged. He didn't.
His clothes were perfect. Vivienne had made sure of that. But his hands trembled slightly, and he kept them folded in his lap.
When the assistant called his name, he followed her down a hallway that felt too long. Too quiet.
Cassian Ryu stood at the window, back turned.
"Thank you for coming," he said without turning.
Elián swallowed. "You asked."
Cassian turned.
Those eyes.
Steel-gray. Unreadable.
"You're not what I expected," he said.
Elián didn't know if that was good or bad.
Cassian gestured to a chair. "Sit."
The office was minimalist, but not cold. Everything was intentional. The view behind Cassian stretched across the city, glittering and endless.
Elián sat, spine straight, heart pounding.
Cassian studied him for a moment too long. "You're quieter than I imagined."
"I'm not used to being asked questions."
Cassian nodded slowly. "You're used to being told."
Elián looked away.
"I watched your audition," Cassian said. "Twice. Then again."
Elián's voice was barely audible. "It wasn't acting."
"I know."
Cassian leaned forward. "That's why I called you."
He slid a folder across the table. "I want to build something around you. A project. A story. Yours."
Elián didn't touch it.
"I don't want to be a product," he said.
Cassian's voice softened. "Then don't be. Be a person. Let me help you stay one."
Elián looked up.
Cassian's expression cracked—just slightly. There was something in his eyes. Not pity. Not hunger.
Recognition.
Outside, the city kept moving. But in that room, time slowed.
Two men. Two masks. And the first flicker of something neither of them had planned for.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But maybe the beginning of it.