Adian sat quietly in the corner, sipping his juice, his gaze fixed on the speaker at the podium. Despite his effort to stay unnoticed, whispers stirred around him — people couldn't help but glance his way. He was striking, young, and alone — a presence impossible to ignore.
His dark suit was simple, but elegant, and his sharp features gave off an air of quiet command. Yet, even with all eyes occasionally drawn to him, Adian seemed uninterested — detached from the noise around him.
"Adian, why are you sitting here?"
Mr. Jake Anderson, his boss, appeared at his side, voice low but urgent.
Adian didn't look at him. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Go talk to Ms. Hart," Anderson urged, glancing discreetly toward a woman across the room. "She's dying to meet you."
"I'm not interested in meeting her," Adian replied flatly, still not shifting his gaze.
Anderson's jaw tightened. "Listen to me. Ms. Hart is the daughter of the Hart family. She's an exceptional woman. It's a privilege that she's even interested in you. Don't mess this up."
Adian turned to him, expression calm but distant. "If you admire her so much, go talk to her yourself."
Without waiting for a response, he rose from his seat and walked away, his quiet defiance trailing behind him like a shadow.
"Mr. Langley! Mr. Langley!" a voice called out from the press section as he passed.
Adian stopped briefly as a journalist hurried up, recorder in hand.
"Can you tell us more about the new energy mobile you just unveiled?"
Adian gave a small nod, stepping forward.
"The Camel30 is more than just a car. It's the result of months of relentless effort by an incredible team. It runs fully on hydrogen gas — clean, efficient, and made for the future. This model wouldn't exist without the dedication of every single person at the Zonic Group. I only led the vision — they built the reality."
The room buzzed with surprised murmurs.
"Oh my God… Adian is so nice," someone whispered.
"I can't believe he included his colleagues in his speech."
"I've never seen anyone so selfless. He's cold on the outside, but deep down… he's kind."
Another journalist raised a hand quickly. "Mr. Langley! What inspired you to build the Camel30?"
Adian paused, then replied simply:
"The planet needed a better option. So I built one."
And with that, he nodded once more and walked away.
He had said all he came to say.
⸻
"Wow! He's so cool!" someone exclaimed in another corner of the hall.
Cian leaned closer to the screen on his phone, eyes practically glowing.
"I swear, Cian, I'm beginning to think you're gay," Ivan said, nudging him with a grin.
Cian scoffed. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, you're always drooling over this guy like a fangirl," Ivan teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, he's just… awesome," Cian shrugged. "I'm a fan, that's all."
"Really? Just a fan?" Ivan asked, smirking. "You even asked me to save that video clip of his speech."
"Don't look at me like that. I'm straight, okay?" Cian said quickly, hands raised. "Adian is just an idol I look up to. He's smart, confident, and honest. That's rare these days."
"I know, I'm just pulling your leg." Ivan chuckled. "Look at your face. You're practically glowing."
"Ha! I knew. I was just playing along," Cian said, trying to sound cool.
"Oh really? You lie!" Ivan pointed at his face, grinning wide.
Cian laughed. "Was it that obvious?"
They both burst into laughter, their conversation trailing off into amused banter as the buzz around Adian Langley continued to grow.
⸻
Later that evening, Adian unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside. The soft click of the door behind him was followed by silence. He turned on the lights and let out a long breath before sinking into the leather chair near the window.
He rubbed the space between his brows, the tension from the event still lingering in his head.
The TME program was coming up soon — an elite technology and innovation exhibition. Anderson had made it clear: attendance was mandatory. That meant another public appearance, another string of conversations he didn't care to have.
He sighed again.
I guess I'll have to avoid Miss Hart again.
He stood up slowly, walked over to his shelf, and pulled down his guitar. Slipping on his headphones, he strummed a few soft chords and let the music wash over him. His voice was low, almost lost in the stillness of the room.
"All of me… loves all of you…"
For a few minutes, the world outside faded. There were no questions, no flashing cameras, no expectations — just strings, sound, and peace.