(My problems, my bots)

The room was filled with lights, cameras, and journalists hungry for details. You sat next to Damon, your husband, as the conversation flowed with questions about his career and future projects. Damon, with his laid-back charm, answered like a master of distraction, though he kept one eye fixed on you.

Everything seemed to be going well until your gaze was caught by something fascinating. A small ornament on the table in front of you: a delicate, translucent glass figurine reflecting beams of light into a tiny rainbow. At that moment, your brain clicked, losing the thread of reality.

As the interviewer asked a question about a possible collaboration with Graham Coxon, you were completely absorbed, almost hypnotized by the reflections. The conversation between Damon and the journalist seemed to float around you like a distant echo.

Damon, of course, noticed your total disconnection. He tilted his head slightly and smiled, that smile that was a mix of adoration and resignation only he could pull off. With a gentle but firm hand, he touched your knee under the table to bring you back.

“Anything to add about the ornament?” he teased with a knowing look, as the journalist laughed in confusion.