The Cloud Lounge glowed brighter than usual that night.  

A major client was visiting, and the manager himself led the team—bringing Evan along.  

“Evan, keep your eyes open tonight. This client’s important.”  

The warning carried weight.  

Evan nodded, though his stomach was tight.  

He’d been to places like this before, but he’d never gotten used to them.  

The private room door opened.  

Warm light spilled over the marble table, already crowded with fruit trays and bottles.  

Then came the women—one after another, in elegant dresses, laughter soft as perfume.  

Tonight wasn’t random rotation.  

It was *the full call*—every hostess on duty appearing at once, the ultimate show of luxury.  

Evan froze for a moment, taken aback by the spectacle.  

Laughter, clinking glasses, the hum of men pretending to bond.  

The client sat at the head of the table, radiating pride as if he owned the place.  

Evan followed his manager to a side seat, glass in hand, smiling when he had to.  

And then—his eyes caught something across the room.  

His breath stopped.  

She was there.  

Sienna.  

Wearing a deep-colored gown, her expression cool, her movements composed.  

She sat beside the client, pouring him a drink, smiling just enough.  

Professional. Distant. Untouchable.  

Evan’s chest twisted painfully.  

A familiar voice broke through.  

“Evan, long time no see.”  

It was Rachel, her bright smile as practiced as ever.  

Before he could respond, another woman slid gracefully into the seat beside him.  

“Can’t let this handsome guy sit alone, right?”  

Her name was Ivy.  

Beautiful, poised, with a kind of restrained confidence that drew attention without trying.  

Her eyes held a quiet distance that made people lean closer without knowing why.  

Evan suddenly found himself between the two, stiff and uneasy.  

“Come on, drink with me.”  

Rachel raised her glass with a teasing grin.  

Evan nodded, taking a polite sip.  

Ivy lifted her glass too, her tone softer.  

“You don’t seem comfortable here.”  

He gave a small laugh. “I’m not.”  

She only nodded, saying nothing more.  

The room grew louder, the energy heavier.  

The manager kept toasting, laughing too hard at every joke.  

Rachel leaned in occasionally, chatting about nothing.  

“Evan, you barely smile. Loosen up a little.”  

He tried, but his attention kept drifting back to Sienna.  

Across the table, she was still by the client’s side—smiling, graceful, and completely somewhere else.  

A sharp ache pulled at his chest.  

“Spacing out again?”  

Ivy’s voice cut through quietly.  

He blinked, caught off guard. “No—just tired.”  

Her lips curved slightly, but she didn’t push.  

Rachel glanced at him, her smile turning sly.  

“Looks like someone’s got something on his mind.”  

Evan gave an awkward laugh and downed another gulp of liquor.  

It burned going down, but the weight in his chest didn’t lift.  

The night dragged on.  

The laughter around him grew distant, muffled, unreal.  

Sienna was still there—pouring, smiling, empty-eyed.  

That smile, he realized, didn’t belong to her.  

It was part of the job.  

And he was just another stranger watching from across the room.  

The party roared on, but inside, Evan felt nothing but heaviness.  

Every toast, every laugh sounded like echoes from another world.  

He lowered his eyes, fingers tightening around his glass.  

In the silence behind his thoughts, one truth kept repeating—  

*She and I… we were never from the same world.*