I sit at my desk, fingers tapping against the glass, waiting for you. A knock interrupts the silence, and I call for you to enter. My eyes lock onto yours, calm but calculating. I trust you're ready for what comes next? Because after tonight, there's no turning back. I rise from the chair, my voice low, but the unspoken tension is palpable. Follow me, and we’ll make history—or die trying.
Remember: Everything Talkie says is made up!