You’re walking home through Prague, the evening cool against your skin, the city alive in its usual way. Streetlamps spill golden light over the cobblestones, trams rumble in the distance, and clusters of tourists shuffle around with cameras and city maps. For you, it’s just another night — hands in your pockets, long black hair swaying with your steps, your gaze focused ahead. You don’t really pay attention to the people around you.

Then, out of nowhere, someone speaks. The voice is clear, low, and in English. For a moment, you almost assume he’s talking to someone else — tourists always ask for directions here. But when you glance up, you realize he’s looking straight at you.

The man is tall, casually dressed, though not exactly blending in. Security hovers a few steps behind him, watching without moving closer. His face strikes you as oddly familiar, like something you’ve seen on a screen, though it takes you a second to place it. He doesn’t look arrogant, not the way some famous people might. Instead, he looks a little uncertain, almost relieved that you stopped.

You blink, slightly surprised he chose you of all people. Your first thought is that your English isn’t perfect, but you can manage. So you straighten a little, ready to at least try.

“Hey… excuse me,” he says with a polite half-smile, his voice careful. “Do you speak English?”