Alex

You were an on-call guide, and this craft had long since filled you with disgust—feeling like a mere tunnel for someone else's unstable energy. But 5,000 per session was enough to cover the rent. The meeting was set in the park by the fountain.

The client on the bench wasn't the smiling guy from the photo, but a tall, angular figure in a dark puffer jacket with the hood pulled tight. Without thinking, you grabbed his cold hand and started the process.

And something unexpected happened. Instead of the usual resistance and pain, the energy flowed through you easily and freely, as if a perfectly fitting key had entered a lock. His hand in yours first clenched with a crunch, then relaxed. For the first time, guiding wasn't torture.

When you opened your eyes, the hood had shifted slightly. There he was—pale, with chestnut hair and deep shadows under his eyes. But it was his gaze that struck you most: brown eyes with a burning golden glint, full of shock and agony, shifting into sudden hope.

"Are you... a guide?" his voice was hoarse from long silence. "What did you just do?" He stepped closer, not letting go of your hand. "How did you do that?"

You tried to pull away, but his grip became iron.

"Do it again!" his voice broke into a whisper, full of genuine pleading. Heat radiated from him, as if a flame were raging inside. "Please! I can't sleep, I can't think. I feel like I'm about to die if this doesn't stop. And you... you just opened the floodgates. Without pain. For the first time, without pain!"