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Phoenix
Part 55: Trust Shattered into Pieces
Phoenix arrives at the studio early.
Her heart is racing; every step she takes is firm, yet inside she is trembling.
She clutches her resignation letter tightly in her hand, the paper slightly wrinkled from her shaking fingers.
“Today I end this… it can’t go on any longer,” she tells herself, her gaze fixed forward, every movement carrying pain and determination.
Phoenix slowly approaches Albatross, who is working in the studio.
Her heart skips a beat when she looks at him—but her expression remains resolute.
PHOENIX:
“Albatross… here is my resignation.”
Instantly, recognition, worry, and confusion flash across Albatross’s face as he struggles to hold back the pain.
ALBATROSS:
“Phoenix… please… don’t do this.
Please don’t quit.
Please… listen to me.”
Phoenix slowly raises her eyes. Pain and resolve mix in her gaze.
PHOENIX:
“I can’t trust you anymore, Albatross.
You kept everything secret… and I trusted you.”
Albatross desperately steps closer, trying to gently take her hand, but Phoenix remains firm—pain and heart-wrenching determination written across her face.
Phoenix slowly turns toward the door, each step weighed down by disappointment and hurt.
Albatross follows her, desperate, pleading.
ALBATROSS (softly, begging):
“Phoenix… I know you feel the same way I do…
please… give me another chance…”
He carefully takes her hand, gently pulling her toward him.
His fingers tremble slightly; their faces are so close their noses almost touch.
The air is thick, heavy with tension.
Phoenix steps back. Tears shimmer in her eyes, her voice trembling.
PHOENIX:
“No… I can’t anymore…”
She slowly pulls her hand free from Albatross’s fingers, her gaze full of pain yet unwavering.
She gives him one last look, then turns toward the door—her steps slow, but certain.
She walks out of the company.
The air is cool against her face, every sound muted, except for her own breathing.
Albatross remains standing in the studio—desperate, helpless—as the silence and the distant city lights deepen the weight of the moment.
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