Cut... Back To Beginning.

After a day filled with chaos, noise, and constant movement, everything suddenly turned quiet and heavy. The energy disappeared completely, leaving only the sound of her own thoughts.

Camillia stepped into her house. Everything was exactly as she had left it—clothes scattered around, leftover food still on surfaces, and lights left on.

Every day she told herself she would fix it tomorrow. And technically, she always had time. But she never really had the courage to sit alone with her thoughts in silence. So she changed her clothes, tossed them aside like always, and quickly sank into her bed—trying to shut everything out before her mind could start pulling her into memories or thoughts she didn’t want to face.

But In her dreams, there was no escape from thoughts or memories. She was back in that bar again—her twenties, in Rome, around midnight. Laughing with friends, feeling like life was worth living, like she owned the world itself. And then she saw him. Stunning, like a star standing out in the crowd. He was playing the guitar so effortlessly, as if he was taming it… or as if it was magic in his hands. His rough stubble, his height, and the veins in his hands moving smoothly across the strings—all of it pulled her attention. But most of all… his eyes.

Those wide brown eyes, full of something unspoken, something heavy with meaning. They caught her completely, pulling her away from her friends. She froze, simply staring back at him in a silence that felt louder than the music.

The eye contact lasted for what felt like an unmeasurable moment, as if time itself had stopped just for them. Oh… it was clear this dream had no intention of ever stopping its repetition. A hot tear fell into her checks whilst sleeping:

Isaac, Where are you?

The next morning, When Camilla looked at her phone: It was 9AM!

“Shit, I will miss my meeting… again!”

Camellia muttered as she sprang out of bed, almost tripping over a piece of clothing on the floor. Typical... She was a bit messy like that.

In a hurry, she kicked it aside and rushed toward her closet. Her messy yellow hair and puffy, sleep-heavy face said everything about how her morning was going.

She grabbed a black suit paired with crisp white accents.

Within less than thirty minutes, she was back to her usual chic self—sharp, composed, and effortlessly put together, with a clean no-makeup makeup look for the day. (Not because she was trying to be trendy… but because she was extremely late!)

She hurried down to her mini copper car and sped toward her office: “Arura Production.”

Without wasting a second, she headed straight to the meeting room—only to find Patrick already waiting by the door, holding her hot coffee.

She took it from him casually, with a quick wink as they walked in together. “Patrick, you’re the best.”

Inside the meeting room, two men in sharp suits were already seated. They looked like they had been waiting for a while… poor guys, Camellia thought, noticing their empty coffee cups.

Before any frustration could surface, she spoke first, calm and professional.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. We can begin now.”

She took her seat in the comfortable red chair. Around her, her team—James, Patrick, Noah, and Lucas—all young employees under her leadership—watched her with quiet anticipation, as always, while she presented the project to the two clients.

“The documentary will follow a simple structure… almost like a diary. The main character will narrate his own journey with a sarcastic, humorous tone.”

The two men exchanged a look—already convinced.

They had come seeking a documentary about a young man named Frank exploring the Amazon, and this concept fit perfectly.

They were from the “A1” TV platform, and they believed this project could significantly boost their visibility. They usually specialized in documentaries… but this one felt different.

This time, they weren’t just producing another film.

They were about to collaborate with Arura Production—and with Camellia Ferman.

They agreed on the filming location according to Frank’s s schedule… that spoiled young man who, whenever he attends a meeting, fills the room with his exaggerated sighs.

Well… Camellia was used to this kind of childish behaviour from celebrities, given the nature of her work in directing. Still, she was supposed to be far away from all that luxury and indulgence. She specialized in documentaries… so why was she constantly dealing with people like this?

The meeting ended, and the two men left satisfied, confirming that filming would begin on the fourteenth of this month.

As soon as the meeting wrapped up, Camilla had to head straight to the National Geographic location. And Lucas who was the only working with her in it.

As she was also working on another project. A documentary about the world’s most dangerous climbs. The project was divided into parts, each one telling the story of a different climber.

And now it was Kian’s turn… the man who always reminded them of a lively father on his day off—except he constantly insisted on interfering with every tiny detail, as if he were part of the directing team.

Well… even in documentaries, people never seemed to resist acting like Hollywood stars!

“Well, just like we practiced. More natural, more simple.

Stand by… and action!”

Camellia said in her strong, professional voice, her full focus locked on the camera in front of her. She let the actors take over, stepping back into her rhythm, controlling the scene through the lens.

“Cut!”

She called out sharply.

Then, under her breath, she muttered, “What the hell is this?”

“Kian, please… can’t you just not look at the camera? Just climb the mountain—nothing extra!”

Camellia was clearly reaching the end of her patience.

“What would he do if it were a real mountain? It’s all graphics, man…”

She whispered to Lucas beside her, giving a sigh while putting back her beats, she could her Lucas laughing.

And when they finished the shot for the day, it was nearly 11 p.m.

If you looked around the set, everyone was either running, grabbing coffee, or fixing actors’ clothes and makeup. People were everywhere—mics, lights, cameras—moving in constant chaos. In that kind of environment, you could never really tell whether it was morning or night.

That was exactly why, when Camellia first entered this field, she learned one rule: never look at the clock.

Camellia and Lucas left the set completely drained, running on empty after the long day.

“How I envy Noah and James… they never had to deal with Kian’s chaos,” Lucas said, letting out a tired laugh.

Camilla nodded in agreement.

“Hey, let’s forget today’s chaos and just have dinner… a big, fatty burger,” Camellia suggested energetically, trying to shake off the exhaustion.

The idea immediately lifted their mood, and they all agreed with the same burst of energy, as if the day’s fatigue had suddenly disappeared.

They looked like friends… because they were. Somehow, despite the age gap, their connection had always made work feel lighter… more manageable, As Camilla always said.

They wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders and walked on foot toward a nearby burger restaurant.

She returned home, exhaling in exhaustion.

Without even bothering to change, she collapsed onto the couch.

Every inch of her body ached.

She grabbed her phone and began scrolling… no energy to move, no desire to get up. Half an hour slipped by as she sifted through work emails, replying mechanically.

Her eyes drifted around the apartment as she wondered when she would finally force herself to stand.

Then her gaze landed on a small glass snow globe resting atop the TV cabinet.

What a spectacular return to square one.

Suddenly, the echo of younger laughter rang through her ears—warm, careless laughter under the Roman sky.

"Oh, it’s so beautiful, Isaac! I’m putting this in our house!"

He watched her with a laugh, spinning her around, her simple pretty dress swaying around her.

Their laughter rang loudly into the night…

As if they owned the entire world.

He pulled her into him and kissed her deeply.

Arms intertwined, they continued wandering through Rome, running through its streets with featherlight hearts.

Camellia realized she was still smiling at empty space like a fool.

Had those been the last truly happy days of her life?

And just like that—

That tiny snow globe was enough to finally drag her off the couch.

She walked toward it.

Picked it up.

Studied it quietly in her hands.

Then—

She threw it into the trash.