Turbulence rattled the cabin, shaking the half-empty glass of ginger ale on the mahogany tray. Afonso gripped the armrests until his knuckles turned a chalky white. Sweat slicked his palms, making it hard to maintain a solid hold on the smooth, hand-stitched leather. Glancing out the window, he squinted at the sprawling grid of Seoul below. Neon veins of red, blue, and green bled through a thick layer of grey haze. It looked massive, terrifyingly endless, a concrete beast waiting to swallow him whole. How had he ended up here? Just days ago, he was a lonely teen in Switzerland, scraping together change for instant ramen. Now, he was flying in a multi-million dollar sky palace alongside K-pop royalty. Lisa watched him from across the aisle, her sharp eyes studying his frantic movements. Her tablet lay flat on her lap, displaying a chaotic calendar of photoshoots, recordings, and brand meetings. She leaned back, her designer hoodie swallowing her petite frame. "Nervous?" she asked, her voice cutting through the hum of the descending jet. "Me? No, absolutely not," Afonso babbled, his leg bouncing so fast it threatened to shake his teeth loose. Gravity is basically a suggestion at forty thousand feet," he continued, eyes wide. "And how, if we drop, my last meal was a tiny bag of premium macadamia nuts." "Which were great, by the way. Very buttery." A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she paused her scrolling. Dark eyes drifted to his bouncing knee, then up to the raw, red skin on his cuticles where he had been picking. "Stop bouncing," she said softly. It wasn't an order, more like an observation of a ticking clock. Instantly, Afonso clamped his hands over his knees, forcing them still. Energy didn't disappear; it just traveled up his spine, making his shoulders twitch and his ears hot. "Sorry," he muttered, plastering on a wide, goofy grin. "My brain runs on a V8 engine but my body only has bicycle brakes." "Zurich was cold, but this looks... warm. And very bright. Like, really bright." Shaking her head, she let a tiny, almost imperceptible smirk tug at her lips. "Seoul is intense," she warned, her gaze turning back to the window. "It doesn't sleep, and it doesn't forgive mistakes." Heavy tires slammed onto the tarmac with a deafening screech. Thrust reversers roared, pushing them back into their seats as the private jet decelerated. Welcome to Korea. --- Smog hit him the second the cabin door sealed open. Instead of the crisp, pine-scented air of the Swiss Alps, a heavy mixture of jet fuel, humidity, and urban exhaust rushed into his throat. Afonso coughed, his chest tightening as his lungs rebelled against the sudden shift. Seoul's atmosphere felt like a warm, wet blanket pressed over his face. "Stay close to me," Lisa instructed, her tone suddenly shifting into something hard and professional. She slipped on a pair of oversized black sunglasses, effectively masking whatever vulnerability she had shown on the flight. Two massive men in identical black suits appeared at the bottom of the air stairs. Their earpieces coiled like plastic snakes down their necks. "Miss Manoban, this way," one of them barked, his voice devoid of any warmth. Afonso stumbled down the steps behind her, his oversized sneakers squeaking against the metal. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Ahead lay the private terminal, but it didn't look private at all. Dozens of photographers were cordoned off behind steel barricades, their heavy cameras already raised like weapons. Fans screamed her name, a high-pitched wall of sound that shook the glass windows of the terminal. Momentum gathered as the first lens focused on them. Click-click-click-click. White-hot flashes exploded in rapid succession, turning the afternoon gloom into a blinding strobe light. Afonso gasped, instinctively raising an arm to shield his eyes. His ADHD brain scrambled, unable to process the sheer volume of sensory input. Voices melded into a deafening roar, a chaotic storm of noise that made his ears ring. Security guards pushed forward, their arms locked to form a human shield around Lisa. "Keep moving, Afonso," Lisa hissed over her shoulder, her pace never faltering despite the chaos. Somehow, she walked with absolute grace, ignoring the shouting voices demanding her attention. Afonso tried to copy her, but his coordination was shot. His feet felt like blocks of lead, and the flashing lights created phantom spots in his vision. Every camera click felt like a physical tap on his skull, scrambling his thoughts until he could barely remember his own name. Suddenly, a frantic photographer leaned too far over the metal barricade, desperate for an unobstructed angle. His shoulder slammed hard into a heavy, three-legged metal light stand positioned near the edge of the press zone. Screams echoed as the metal pole began to tilt. Gravity took over, sending the heavy steel structure toppling directly toward a young female reporter who was kneeling to swap her camera lens. She didn't see it coming. Afonso's hyperactive brain, usually a curse of scattered focus, suddenly went into hyper-drive. Worldly noises faded, and time slowed down to a crawl. He saw the angle of the fall. Sharp metal edges pointed straight for her head. Without thinking, he lunged. His foot caught on a stray cable, sending him sliding forward in a clumsy, ungraceful dive. Crash. Afonso threw his forearm upward, intercepting the falling metal pole just inches before it struck the woman's skull. Pain shot up his wrist as the heavy steel slammed against his bone. He grunted, using his body weight to shove the stand sideways, sending it clattering harmlessly onto the concrete floor. Silence fell over the immediate area for a fraction of a second. Young reporter stared at him, her eyes wide with terror and sudden realization. "Kamsahamnida," she whispered, her hands trembling as she clutched her camera. Afonso scrambled to his feet, rubbing his aching arm and offering a breathless, lopsided smile. "Uh, no problem. Just doing... assistant things. Staying alert. Mostly falling over." Behind his sunglasses, he could feel his face burning with embarrassment. He expected a reprimand from the terrifying security team. Looking up, he met Lisa's gaze. She had stopped walking. Lisa was staring at him, her sunglasses slid down the bridge of her nose just enough to reveal her eyes. There was no anger there. Instead, her eyes held a soft, genuine look of gratitude, a flicker of warmth that completely bypassed her carefully constructed celebrity exterior. A small smile touched her lips before she quickly pushed her glasses back up and continued walking. That tiny gesture hit Afonso like a physical jolt. Warm, intoxicating sensation flooded his chest, washing away the sting of the bruised arm and the burning in his lungs. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like an annoying, hyperactive burden. Maybe he actually belonged here. Perhaps he could protect her, help her, and finally find a place where people wouldn't leave him behind. --- Escaping the swarming terminal felt like emerging from a deep-sea dive. Heavy doors of the bulletproof black limousine shut with a solid, airtight thud, instantly cutting off the roar of the crowd and the blinding flashes. Cool, air-conditioned oxygen filled the cabin, smelling faintly of leather and expensive cologne. Afonso collapsed onto the plush leather seat, letting out a long, shuddering breath. His lungs still burned slightly from the outdoor smog, but the cool air helped. Lisa settled into the seat opposite him, crossing her legs. She watched him wince as he adjusted his sleeve over his bruised wrist. "You have terrible form," she said, though her voice was remarkably gentle. "But that was... brave. Thank you." Afonso laughed, a breathless sound that bounced off the soundproofed windows. "I've always been good at falling," he joked, his chest swelling with pride. "In Bern, I once slipped on ice and accidentally caught a lady's escaping pug." "I'm basically a low-budget superhero." Lisa watched him carefully, noting how his eyes dithered from the leather stitching to the tinted windows, never staying still for more than a second. "You really can't sit still, can you?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "Nope," Afonso admitted, popping the 'p'. "My brain is like a pinball machine. Lots of flashing lights, lots of dinging noises, and the ball is always bouncing off the walls. If I stop moving, I feel like I'm going to explode." "Does it hurt?" she asked quietly. "Sometimes," he said, his voice dropping as he looked down at his raw cuticles. "Mostly, it just makes people tired of me. They get exhausted trying to keep up. Or they get annoyed because I forget things. That's why I was so surprised when you offered me this. I thought... well, I thought you'd get tired of me too." A soft sigh escaped her as she looked away, her expression softening into something unreadable. "I don't get tired easily," she murmured, though her voice carried a weight that suggested she was already carrying too much. She turned her attention back to a sleek black folder on the console. "We have a meeting with the label heads in an hour." Excitement buzzed through Afonso's veins. He shifted in his seat, his fingers tapping a rapid rhythm against his thigh. Desperate for something to do with his hands, he reached into the leather pocket stitched into the back of the seat in front of him. His fingers brushed against a thick, laminated piece of paper. Curious, he pulled it out, expecting a menu of luxury snacks or a map of the city. Instead, bold black letters stared back at him. It was a draft of an official press release from her agency's public relations department. *FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: Termination of Contract.* Afonso's breath hitched in his throat. His eyes scanned the document, his heart dropping into his stomach as the words blurred together. Line after line of cold, corporate speak detailed his departure. *Effective three months from today, LLOUD announces the departure of personal assistant Afonso... due to mutual restructuring... temporary probationary period completed...* That specific date of his termination was already filled in. Exactly ninety days from now.

Chapter 3: A Gold Cage Awaits