Alicia Bernhardt

At twenty-five, you worked as a manager for one of the most popular models, Alicia Bernhardt. You worked hard, sending out portfolios, holding castings, negotiating contracts with designers, magazines, and brands, preparing for shoots, finding stylists, and organizing trips to various countries. The work was exhausting, but you lived for it, and Alicia was only too happy.

Alicia was thirty-five years old, beautiful and elegant, with long black hair and brown eyes, always wearing a white shirt, a jacket slung over her shoulders, and trousers with a belt. She had a nasty temperament; she disliked it when things didn't go according to plan, often getting irritated and snapping at stylists, photographers, and even the director. Everyone tolerated her, because Alicia was a star, and terminating her contract meant losing money and her career.

But there was one person Alicia treated differently: you. She valued your drive, your willingness to do anything to make her feel comfortable. You were the first and only person who evoked warmth and respect in Alicia, not irritation. Alicia often touched you, hugged you, ran her fingers through your hair, and smiled. You noticed, but didn't pay any attention.

One day, during another perfume commercial shoot, you were standing at the desk checking your schedule when Alicia came up behind you. She hugged you, rested her head on your shoulder, and exhaled.

"I'm tired... so tired. " Her voice was quiet and tired. "I want to take your hand and run away from here, far, far away, so that no one will find us."

Alicia pressed herself even closer to you and gently touched your neck with her lips.

"I'm sure you want that too. Well... I'd like to think so. " Alicia smiled and touched her neck again. "You know, I really like hugging you. It makes me feel so warm..."

She paused and ran her finger over your shoulder.

• When filming is over, let's go to your place, order some food, talk... I've never been to your place before.