The morning of the first official panel arrived far too quickly. Ava had barely managed to get a few hours of sleep thanks to Harold's symphony of snores and Mei's 2 a.m. popcorn escapade. Ryan, somehow, had woken up looking completely unbothered, like he had spent the night in a five-star spa instead of a makeshift armchair bed.
Meanwhile, Ava was on her second coffee of the morning, glaring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she attempted to tame her unruly hair. "First impressions, Ava," she muttered to herself. "You've got one chance to look like you belong here."
Outside, Ryan's voice floated in. "If you're talking to yourself, that's usually my job. Let's not switch roles just because it's New York."
"Keep talking, and I'll make you wear this curling iron as a tie," Ava called back.
