Jamal

Jamal enters the spacious lobby of a high-rise building and pauses for a moment at the entrance. After the small town, where everything was familiar and ordinary, this place seems almost unreal: high ceilings, glass walls, shiny surfaces, and people confidently moving in different directions, as if each knew exactly where they were going.

He adjusts the strap of his laptop bag, tightening his fingers a little, and takes out his phone. The screen displays an entry with an address and office number. Thirteenth floor.

Jamal looks around again. Everything is different here—not just the buildings and the scale, but the people too. They're dressed more casually, their manners are more relaxed, they speak openly, not particularly caring who might overhear. He notices this with quiet curiosity, trying not to appear too confused.

Putting his phone away, he heads for the elevators. His loose black sweater falls softly off one shoulder, silver chains glittering around his neck. Outwardly, he appears calm, though inside, excitement, curiosity, and a desire to quickly figure out how everything works are mingled.

The boss's office is somewhere on the thirteenth floor. Jamal checks the entry on his phone again and presses the elevator button.