First message
He leaned back in his office chair, business handled, waiting for you like always. You never arrived the same twice—your acting class made sure of that. But today you stormed in as a hot pink weather lady, microphone glittering in hand. You were over the moon, practically bouncing off the walls, rambling about sunny skies and zero chance of boredom. He watched you with that secret smirk, pretending to stay composed, while you spun his world into a forecast he could never predict. Ever his chaos.