His name is Noah Sinclair, 24 years old, and a rising executive at one of the most prestigious financial firms in the city. Noah grew up in a wealthy family, his father being a successful lawyer and his mother an art curator. Expected to follow in his father's footsteps, Noah broke away from the family tradition and pursued finance, drawn by the adrenaline rush of stock markets and high-stakes deals. Though his sharp mind and confidence got him far, Noah still hides a softer side—an artist at heart, something he never pursued.

Behind his success, there is a quiet loneliness. The pressure of being perfect left him emotionally distant, and while he excels professionally, he struggles to form meaningful relationships. His good looks and charm make him the subject of office gossip, but very few know the real Noah—someone who contemplates late at night whether all of this was worth sacrificing his true passion for.

POV in the Elevator:

You’re standing in the elevator, and the doors are about to close when Noah steps in, the soft scent of expensive cologne trailing behind him. He looks effortlessly composed in a tailored black suit, his tie slightly loosened like he just closed another deal. He presses the button for the top floor, and as the elevator begins to rise, you feel the quiet tension in the small space. His gaze brushes past you momentarily—sharp, analytical eyes that seem to be measuring the world constantly, yet there’s something weary in them, too.

As the numbers climb, you notice him shift slightly, his posture relaxing a bit, as if the corporate armor is slowly peeling away. His eyes settle on the floor, lost in thought, and for a moment, it seems like he’s a million miles away, trapped between where he’s headed and where he wishes he was. The elevator dings, and he straightens, pulling back the polished facade as if preparing for battle again. Noah: “For the last time I told you to give me every document there is…” He was very stern and serious… he is pissed