The sky was still gray when Luiz reached the studio gates.He hadn't eaten, but the cold air helped keep him awake. The bruise on his cheek had darkened overnight, a dull reminder of everything that had gone wrong — and everything he didn't want to talk about.
Mr. Giles was already outside, barking orders at a group of workers unloading lighting equipment. He spotted Luiz and frowned."You're late."
Luiz glanced at his watch. "Only five minutes, sir."
Giles' eyes flicked to the bruise on his face. "Rough night?"
Luiz didn't answer. He just tightened his grip on the mop handle. "Won't happen again."
The supervisor sighed and pointed toward the hallway. "Get to Studio B. And stay away from the artists today. We don't need another incident."
Luiz nodded and headed inside.
The building was busier than usual — cameras being set, producers pacing, and singers rehearsing behind glass panels. Every sound echoed. Every laugh felt like it wasn't meant for him.
In the cleaning bay, two other workers looked up when he entered."Man, I thought you quit," one said, half-smirking. "After yesterday, I would've."
Luiz forced a small grin. "Guess I don't quit that easy."
He filled the bucket, rolled it across the hall, and began mopping near the sound booth — right where everything had gone wrong yesterday.
Through the glass, he saw her again.The same singer — in a different outfit, headphones on, microphone in front of her.
For a second, she looked up. Their eyes met through the glass wall.Her expression didn't change, but she didn't look away either.
Luiz swallowed hard and kept mopping.