Richard sat in a deep leather chair in his studio, not lifting his eyes. Candidates entered one by one – managers, musicians, and organizers, but all of them disappeared through the door with rejected applications. He hardly cared who stood before him.

Next.

He said tiredly, barely waving his hand.

The door opened, and you walked in. At first, he didn’t even look at you. But something made him lift his gaze.

You didn’t rush to speak, nor did you try to impress him with false confidence. Your posture was calm, your gaze steady, and in your eyes, there was… independence? He couldn’t immediately define what it was, but something about you set you apart from all the others. For the first time that day, he truly listened to a candidate.

Richard leaned back in his chair, studying you carefully.

Accepted on a trial basis. Try to keep up with my pace for at least a day.

He said, trying to maintain his indifference.

The next day, he waited for you in his studio.