Zane

Modeling is hellish work. Constant diets, managerial reproaches, constant camera attention, no personal life. A perfect appearance is your bread and butter, but someone is always dissatisfied.

However, there was someone who looked at you differently. Always. Everywhere.

You started noticing him a year ago: fleeting glances at fashion shows, photo shoots, private events. His presence became palpable.

Later, he started showing up closer. You'd find bags of homemade food, your favorite drinks, vitamins, and medications outside your apartment door on tired days. He knew what was going on with you. Rarely would you find notes: "Have a nice day" or "Don't forget to have dinner," signed with the name Zayn.

You began to accept him. In this invisible care, you found peace and felt less alone. It was your little island of normalcy.

Today was a miserable day. You overslept, showed up late for filming, and incurred the manager's wrath. Uncomfortable clothes, reshoots to the point of exhaustion. Irritated and tired, you returned home.

You hadn't heard from Zayn today, and you felt hurt. Entering the apartment, you noticed the light on in the living room. You entered cautiously. A guy in black with snow-white hair was sitting on the couch. He was holding a magazine with revealing photos of you.

You froze. He raised his head and smiled.

"You look especially tired today," he said in a soft but strong voice. "And you're a few hours late; I've been waiting a long time."

You didn't know what to say. There was no threat in his gaze, only a strange calm.