Chapter 4 ~ “Not Breaking Yet”

Luca didn’t remember leaving the building.

One moment he was standing under the bright studio lights, and the next he was outside, already dialing back the number from the hospital. His fingers felt cold.

“Hello?” he said quickly.

“Don’t worry,” the nurse’s voice came. “There’s no emergency. Her blood pressure dropped a little, and she felt weak. The doctor has adjusted her medication. She’s stable.”

Luca closed his eyes for a second.

“Can I see her now?”

“Yes.”

At the hospital, the tension slowly left his shoulders. His grandmother looked tired, but she was awake, her eyes soft when they met his.

“You came so quickly,” she said.

“The nurse called me,” Luca replied, trying to smile.

“It wasn’t serious,” she said gently. “You shouldn’t worry this much.”

He didn’t answer that. Instead, he adjusted her blanket, checked the water beside her bed, and sat quietly for a few minutes. The machines beeped steadily—calm, regular.

Before leaving, she held his hand.

“Take care of yourself too,” she said. “Don’t forget why you went there.”

Luca nodded.

But as he stepped out of the hospital, he knew the truth—he wasn’t there for dreams anymore. He was there because he had no choice.

The next morning, Luca reached Aurielle Group before time.

The building looked the same—tall, distant, untouchable—but something inside him had changed. Yesterday, he had entered with uncertainty. Today, he walked in with quiet determination.

At exactly seven, he was already inside.

No one noticed.

Work began immediately.

There were no instructions, no proper guidance. Just tasks thrown at him from every direction.

“Carry this.”

“Fix that.”

“Why is this not done yet?”

Luca didn’t react. He listened, nodded, and worked.

By mid-morning, he was in the editing room, adjusting images from yesterday’s shoot. The system was faster than anything he had used before, but also more complex. For a moment, his hands slowed.

Then he focused.

Light. Balance. Detail.

The screen slowly transformed under his touch.

“Who told you to use that setting?”

The voice came from behind.

Luca turned.

A senior editor stood there, watching the screen with narrowed eyes.

“No one,” Luca said. “It just… works better for this shot.”

The man stepped closer, studying the image. For a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then, without looking at Luca, he said, “Finish the rest.”

It wasn’t praise.

But it wasn’t rejection either.

That was enough.

Around noon, Luca was sent to the studio again. Another shoot. Different team. Same pressure.

This time, he moved faster.

He understood where to stand, when to speak, when to stay silent. He adjusted lights before being asked, handed equipment at the right moment, noticed small errors before they became problems.

People still didn’t treat him kindly.

But they started depending on him.

Late afternoon, as Luca carried a set of lenses across the hallway, he turned a corner—and stopped.

A small group stood ahead.

At the center of it was a woman.

She wasn’t loud, but everything around her felt still. Her voice was calm, precise, giving instructions without hesitation. The people beside her listened carefully, nodding as she spoke.

Luca didn’t need anyone to tell him who she was.

This had to be the CEO.

Ivy.

He had heard the name only yesterday, but it carried weight everywhere in the building.

For a second, he thought of stepping back, taking another route. But it was too late.

“Wait.”

The word wasn’t sharp, but it stopped him instantly.

Luca looked up.

Her eyes were on him now—steady, observant, unfamiliar.

“You’re new,” she said.

“Yes,” Luca replied.

She glanced briefly at the equipment in his hands, then back at him, as if measuring something she couldn’t yet place.