The ballroom had been prepared long before the guests arrived.
Every detail followed a schedule that did not allow deviation. Lighting angled toward the stage without casting harsh shadows. The backdrop—SECOND CUT printed in clean, bold typography—stood against a dark panel that reflected just enough of the room to suggest depth without distraction. Rows of media equipment lined the perimeter, cameras already positioned, lenses adjusted, technicians moving in coordination as final checks were completed.
By the time Franz stepped out of the car, the event had already begun.
Flashes met him immediately.
The sound came first—rapid, overlapping shutters—followed by voices calling his name in quick succession, each trying to secure a moment before the next interruption.
"Noah—over here."
"Just one look—this side."
He paused when expected to pause.
Not longer than necessary.
