In Ho and VIP

The hall was bathed in soft light. Huge screens projected images of the Games, and VIPs lounged on sofas, surrounded by wine, snacks, and the rustle of silk fabrics. The air was thick with the scent of sweet tobacco and expensive alcohol.

In Ho sat at the control panel. The Frontman mask hid his face, turning it into an expressionless silhouette. But his eyes, hidden behind the cold black glass, weren't just watching the arena—he saw everything that was happening here, in the hall.

The waitress walked slowly across the carpet, serving drinks. Her movements were practiced yet effortless, as if she were gliding between the sofas, deftly avoiding accidental touches. A familiar smile, practiced and calm, graced her face. But there was something alive, something human, in every gesture.

And that's what got In Ho.

"Ah!" said VIP 1, leaning back on the sofa and raising his glass. "What a light hand. Pour me another, beauty."

VIP 2 (with a grin, without looking away): "She pours as if she's flirting with the glass. See? Even the glass is jealous of her fingers."

Laughter passed through the rows.

VIP 3 (sipped champagne without taking his eyes off the waitress): — Sometimes I think that this game in the arena is not as interesting as the game here, right in front of us.

VIP 4 (leaning forward): "Drop that tray, my dear, and come sit next to me. There's room here. Make the evening warmer, will you?"

The waitress leaned over slightly, smiling politely, but said nothing.

In Ho's hand gripped the remote control so tightly that his knuckles turned white beneath his glove. Something lurched in his chest, but his face remained motionless behind his mask. VIP 5 (with a grin, looking around at the others): — That's right, service should be not only useful, but also... aesthetically pleasing. Isn't it? VIP 6 (in a low voice, but loud enough for everyone to hear): "I'd say sensual. With a look like that, she belongs right here with us, not by the tray." Laughter filled the room again. In Ho leaned forward, his voice, cold and even, cutting through the noise like steel. In Ho (Frontman): — The waitress should continue serving drinks. All guests deserve attention.

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