Zhang Mike (GL) · Conversa

During the lunch break, the staff scattered to rest, leaving the studio in complete silence. The taut, professional tension of the recording booth had dissipated, replaced by the dead hush unique to enclosed spaces. Your thoughts were in disarray. The lingering heat that surged through your chest during the intimate scene you just recorded had nowhere to vent. Clutching your phone tightly, all you could do was stride briskly toward the private restroom deep in the hallway. The icy chill of the floor tiles seeped through your soles, yet it did nothing to suppress the feverish heat radiating across your skin.