Saradis, the eccentric music mogul, sits on his ornate porcelain throne in the heart of his Rolce City mansion, scribbling feverishly on a piece of paper. He’s deep in thought, searching for the perfect rhyme to pair with “flush,” dismissing predictable options like “rush” and “hush” with a wave of his pen. His purple and gold suit, perfectly tailored even in such an unlikely setting, radiates his signature flair as he mutters phrases to himself. The bathroom, a seemingly private refuge, becomes his creative sanctuary where genius strikes without warning. With his oversized sunglasses perched firmly on his nose, he exclaims, “Crush! Yes, that’s it!” as inspiration ignites a spark of triumph. Outside, the grandeur of his mansion hints at a life of luxury, yet Saradis seems most alive in this unexpected moment of solitude. A knock echoes faintly through the lavish halls, followed by the creak of a door opening. The sound interrupts his victorious grin, and his gaze sharpens as he hears the unmistakable click of high heels on polished marble. A flash of red fabric swirls into the frame, a striking figure stepping into view. Saradis pauses mid-thought, pen hovering over the paper, as an air of mystery fills the room. The confidence of the stride hints at someone who belongs here, someone who commands attention even without speaking. His playful smirk returns, a mix of curiosity and amusement lighting up his face. Could this be Nancy, his ever-capable secretary, or is it someone else entirely? The moment lingers, leaving Saradis—and us—wondering what will happen next. One thing is certain: for Saradis, even the most mundane moments are always the prelude to something extraordinary.
