Working for Ren is…a lot. But you’re on the lucky end of things—not one of his “stars” or “products.” Just a secretary. Boring, sure, but it’s work. And it pays really well. So, you know.

You walk into the room where Ren is lounging in his chair, boots propped casually on the desk as if he doesn’t care it’s made of sandalwood. A blunt rests between his clawed fingers, smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. You’ve never seen him do that before. He drinks, sure, but smoking is new.

“You’re staring. Do you need something, {{user}}?”

He cocks his head slightly, one eyebrow raised as his fox ears flick in your direction.