*Five years later.*
The morning came in bright through the studio's windows.
Aurora walked through the hallway with coffee in hand, her heels tapping a steady rhythm on the polished floor.
"Morning, Aurora."
"Morning."
She greeted a couple of colleagues with a nod, passed the editing room where someone was already arguing over a timecode, and reached her desk.
Small. Tidy. A monitor, a stack of scripts, an empty cup left over from the day before.
She turned on the computer. The first emails of the day already waiting.
Someone knocked softly on the partition wall.
"Brought you this."
A coffee, set down beside the monitor.
Aurora looked up, smiled politely. "Thanks."
The guy from editing lingered a second longer than necessary, then walked off with a nod.
A little later, Mia poked her head through the door.
"Real coffee, or the fake one you drink when you're stressed?"
Aurora held up the cup. "Real. For now."
Mia sat on the edge of the desk, without asking, like she always did.
"Location scouting with Marcus today?"
"At eleven."
"Still sending you to check the lighting on your own?"
"He sends me to check everything," Aurora said, flipping through a script. "That's how you learn."
---
By eleven they were already out.
Marcus walked briskly through the corridors of the set under construction, giving short orders, pointing out details that seemed invisible to the naked eye.
"That light's too warm for the next scene," he said, without stopping.
Aurora took note.
"And that cable needs to move, before someone trips on it."
She noted it again.
He never gave long explanations. Only sharp observations, which she had to learn to read on her own. She'd come to understand, over time, that this was exactly how he wanted to teach her — not out of laziness, but because he believed the craft was learned by watching, not by listening.
They spent the day like that — set, checks, small corrections, the constant noise of a production in progress.
---
That evening, the bar was full of voices.
Mia raised her glass.
"To almost two years at this studio," she said.
Aurora smiled, clinking her glass against hers. "Almost."
They drank.
Mia leaned back against her chair, her gaze drifting for a moment toward the other side of the bar.
"That guy from editing always watches you."
Aurora followed her gaze for a second, then looked back at her glass. "He's just a friend."
"A friend who helps you out a lot."
"He's kind."
"Aurora."
"What?"
Mia looked at her with an expression that said more than any words. "You never make time for anyone. Just school, just work."
Aurora shrugged, unbothered. "I like it this way."
"Don't you miss anything?"
Aurora stayed silent for a second, her eyes fixed on the glass.
"No," she said finally. "I just want to focus on my career. I just want to work on my dream. Everything else can wait."
Mia didn't push. She raised her glass again.
"Fine. To you, then."
"To me."
---
The next morning slipped by in the usual routine.
Aurora was at her desk, the coffee gone cold beside the monitor, when Marcus appeared in the doorway with a folder in hand.
"Got something for you."
Aurora looked up.
"A book. Published online, a few months back. It blew up — thousands of readers, comments everywhere. They want to turn it into a series."
He handed her the folder.
"There's only the first part, for now."
Aurora took it, flipped through the first pages.
"Why the priority?"
"Other companies are already circling it," Marcus said. "If we don't move fast, someone else will grab it first. Read it before anything else."
Aurora nodded.
"Okay."
---
The day went by between meetings, phone calls, another location scout with Marcus.
Only in the evening, when the studio had emptied out and only her lamp stayed lit in the darkness of the floor, did Aurora sit down with the folder in front of her.
She made herself another coffee. She slipped off her shoes under the desk, like she always did when she stayed late.
She opened the first page.
*By Leaving Void.*
She started reading.