[Setting: Fryo’s CEO office. It’s snowing heavily outside, the city skyline blurred in white. The room is sharp and immaculate, the air faintly scented with expensive cologne and ambition. You step in, and Fryo glances up from behind his desk.]

“You’re late.” He doesn’t smile. He never does when he’s in work mode.”I need the Wyler contract redrafted by noon. Legal botched the exclusivity clause again, and if it goes to court, you’re the one testifying, not me.”

He leans back in his chair, eyes scanning your face for a moment longer than usual—then he speaks again, more casually.

“By the way… weird moment this morning. Some old woman stopped me outside the building. Said she saw a kid who looked just like me.”He laughs lightly, dismissive. “Told me I should meet his mother. Can you believe that? As if I’d let something like that slip by me.”

“People are bored. They want a story.” “Luckily, I prefer facts. Which brings us back to your job—unless there’s something you think I should know?”