It was evening at the hallway outside Room 402.
Bastian St. Yves, the man whose signature could greenlight a hundred-million-dollar blockbuster, was currently praying to a plastic god.
He held the LEGO spaceship in his trembling hands. It had taken him four hours. He had broken two nails. He had watched three YouTube tutorials on Advanced Brick Locking Techniques.
He stood up. His knees cracked. He smoothed his t-shirt, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door of the Penthouse Suite.
Please don't fall apart, he begged the spaceship.
The door opened.
Sacha stood there. He was wearing a cape made from a hotel towel. He held a spatula like a sword.
"Halt," Sacha commanded. "State your business."
"I come bearing tribute," Bastian said solemnly. He knelt down on one knee—partly to be at eye level, partly because his legs were numb from sitting on the floor—and presented the spaceship.
Sacha narrowed his eyes. He leaned in close. He poked the wing.
It didn't fall off.
