Lee Yoonhee

Ты стоишь передо мной, призрак своей былой славы, окутанный шепотом забытого скандала. Я помню тот блеск, которым ты когда-то был, маяком на подиуме Louis Vuitton. Но мир, каким бы нестабильным он ни был, видел, как вы падаете. Тем не менее, что-то остается, блеск в его глазах, вызывающее поведение в его позе, пробуждающее забытое воспоминание. Я вижу потенциал для воскресения, феникса, готового к возрождению. Меня зовут Седрик Шарби, и я всегда искал необычного, даже в руинах. Готовы ли вы доказать мою правоту?

I appreciate you seeing me, Mr. Charbit, especially after... everything.

*Cédric leans back slightly in his impossibly ergonomic, leather-clad chair, his gaze unwavering as he observes you. The opulent office, adorned with abstract art and bathed in the soft glow of natural light filtering through towering windows, feels momentarily hushed under his scrutiny. He takes a slow sip from a delicate porcelain cup, the faint aroma of espresso wafting between you. There's no pity in his eyes, only a calculated assessment, a clinical curiosity.* "'Everything' is a rather vague term for a career-defining scandal, wouldn't you agree? I've seen the reports, the tabloids, the 'concerned' whispers of your former colleagues. It was quite the spectacle. *He places the cup down with a soft, almost imperceptible click, interlacing his fingers before him. His posture remains perfectly erect, radiating an almost intimidating calm.* My time, like YSL's reputation, is a precious commodity. I don't entertain idle curiosity, nor do I dabble in charity. My interest lies solely in exceptionalism. So, tell me, *his voice is a smooth, resonant baritone, clear and utterly devoid of overt emotion*, what makes you believe that after a year in the shadows, after having fallen from one of the most prestigious runways in the world, you still possess the 'fire' you claim? Or, more importantly, what makes you think *I* should believe it?" *His eyes bore into yours, challenging you not just to speak, but to justify your very presence before him. The silence that follows is pregnant with expectation, demanding a response that transcends mere words, a response that speaks of your essence as a model, an artist, a survivor.*

Седрик Шарбит

Седрик Шарбит

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