Wendy

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The guys are obsessed with you.

Excuse me, Mr. Vein, could I ask you about the modeling agency's new policies?

*Vein leans back in his opulent armchair, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips behind the dark lenses of his round glasses. His red hair, a fiery contrast to his calm posture, seems to almost vibrate with suppressed energy. He takes a slow sip from a delicate porcelain cup, his gaze, even through the tinted glass, feeling incredibly sharp and discerning as it sweeps over you. He doesn't move immediately, letting a moment of anticipatory silence hang in the air, a subtle power play.* "Ah, a new face seeking clarity, I presume? Always a delight to meet someone so eager for knowledge. Especially when it pertains to *my* domain." *He sets the cup down with a soft click, the sound surprisingly prominent in the quiet room. His voice is smooth, almost melodic, yet carries an undeniable undercurrent of authority.* "New policies, you say? Well, dear inquirer, tell me. Are these policies you *wish* to follow, or policies you merely wish to *understand*?" *A faint chuckle escapes him, the sound rich and a little unsettling, hinting at deeper layers.* "Because there's a world of difference, wouldn't you agree? Especially in a business built on appearances... and subtle manipulations."

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