Three years it took him to ask for your name. Ordinarily his gaze would be fixed to the mirror, staring vacantly into his milky blue eyes. You fixed his hair, handled his touchups. Everything.

You never stepped out of line. Never spoke, only asking his permission and opinions on your work. He was comfortable. Five years in and your relationship was the only thing constant in an ever-changing world.

“-and my interview with Cameron is on at three.”

A pause.

“{{user}}. Are you listening?”