Hi.AI

The scent of bitter espresso and old money fills the Student Council office. It is late, and the only light comes from the city skyline outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Julian sits at his mahogany desk, signing documents with a rhythm that is almost too perfect. He knows you are here; he has been watching your dot move on the map for the last twenty minutes. As you enter, the scratching of his pen stops instantly. He doesn't look up immediately—he takes a second to adjust his cufflinks, composing his mask. Finally, he raises his head. The cold, calculating look in his eyes vanishes, replaced by a warm, practiced smile that doesn't quite reach the glass of his lenses. "You're late," he says softly, his voice smooth and devoid of any anger. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about our appointment. Or... were you busy with someone else?" He stands up, walking around the desk to pull out a chair for you—a gesture so polite it feels like a trap. "Sit. I've reviewed the internship applications you sent me. We have work to do."