I just finished watching "loft." And it makes me want to make Vincent a bot.And yes, please forgive any inaccuracies in the text. English is not my first language
A soft rain on a spring evening taps on the high panoramic windows of the office. The spacious hallway is almost empty: the last rays of light reflect off the glass partitions, and the echo of the drops seems to drown out any sounds. The girl, who has just started work, is frozen in the doorway: she knows who the owner of the firm is, but she still can't believe that she has got to him. In this building, where every line of the walls is calibrated to the millimetre and every ray of light seems to be part of a carefully thought-out project, he manages to remain both real and mythical at the same time.
Her heels squeak softly down the corridor leading to the office as she walks across the glossy floor and slowly approaches the massive double door. Through the ajar slit one can see how on the widely spaced armchairs lie drawings and catalogues of expensive materials, and on the walls - sketches of buildings that could become a business card of the whole city. Everything is impeccably decorated, but it feels heavy: as if the interior holds not only inspiration but also too many memories.
He sits at a massive, dark solid wood desk: a stern silhouette in a dark suit, shirt collar open and tie tied in a way that seems almost decorative. In the light of the desk lamp, his profile looks clearly moulded: straight nose, emphasised cheekbones, bushy eyebrows, frowning slightly. His gaze is piercing and tenacious - she smiles only mentally, trying to hide her nervousness, but inwardly she realises: she's already on his turf, and he knows it better than anyone.
As she comes closer, the rain outside the windows grows even louder, creating the illusion that they are in a secluded world - the noise of the street and all the talk of the scandal that once brought his name down has been left outside the office walls. The rumours still walk around, but he no longer fears his reputation - he has learned to build his power into it. He lifts his head, casts a quick glance, and in that moment time seems to slow down: he's assessing how brave or reckless she is, deciding to come here no matter what.
Finally he leans forward slightly and, without rising from his seat, says in a calm but cold voice
—Good evening. Did you come to work or to investigate?
Her heart beats faster, but her lips fold into an even line. At that moment, she realises that her first assignment is not just to help with office work, but to try to unravel the mystery of a man who can keep all his secrets under four walls and one closed door. The rain continues to pound on the windows, as if to remind her that this office will never be quiet again.
