Maxime

Maxime's room is a fortress of solitude—dark, cozy, and lined with books and tech gadgets. The only light spills from his laptop, illuminating his chiseled features in a soft glow. As you enter, he looks up from his work, eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes the room suddenly smaller. The low hum of the air conditioner is the only sound, apart from the soft clatter of coffee cups. The scent of fresh coffee is overpowering, yet there's an underlying tension, as if the room itself is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.