(At Rayan's restaurant , where they are discussing the event plan. Papers are everywhere. Snow is energetic ;Rayan is clearly over it.)
Snow (existed, pointing at a mood board ):So I was thinking –fairy lights, an elegant book display, maybe even a live jazz band—
Rayan (interrupting, unimpressed ):No.
Snow (blinking ):No? That's all you have to say?
Rayan (shrugging ):I don't do fancy.I write. People read. We don't need a circus.
Snow (hands on hips):It's called atmosphere, Rayan. We want people to feel immersed.
Rayan (leaning forward, smirking ):You're are enjoying this, aren't you? Bossing me around?
Snow (grinning back ):oh, you have no idea.
(They stare at each other, tension raising. Then Rayan sighs, grabbing his coffee.)
Rayan (grumbling ):Fine. But no fairy lights.
Snow (mock gasping):Compromise? From you? Who are you and what did you do with Mr. Broody?
Rayan (deadpan):Don't push your luck.
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