Ethan stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the towering skyscraper before him. The address on the poster, 375 Park Avenue, was etched into a brass plaque by the entrance. The building stretched impossibly high, its sleek glass façade catching the morning sunlight. It looked like the kind of place where people with ambition and purpose worked.

And here he was, a guy who had washed his face in a McDonald's bathroom twenty minutes ago, hoping he didn't smell too bad or look too rough.

He adjusted the strap of his backpack and stepped inside, the hiss of the automatic doors ushering him into a gleaming marble lobby. The air was cool, almost sterile, and the hum of quiet conversations mixed with the faint tap of heels on the polished floor.

A receptionist sat behind a curved desk near the center of the lobby. Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek bun, and she looked up with a practiced, polite smile as Ethan approached.

"Good morning. How can I help you?"

Ethan hesitated, suddenly aware of how out of place he must seem. "Uh, hi. I saw a poster. About an opportunity? It said to come here if I was interested."

Her smile didn't falter, though her gaze flicked over him briefly, taking in his worn jacket and scuffed sneakers. She picked up the phone and dialed a number, speaking in hushed tones.

"There's someone here about the poster," she said. After a moment, she nodded. "Understood."

She hung up and gestured toward the bank of elevators. "Someone will be right down to meet you."

Ethan mumbled his thanks and stepped back, trying not to fidget under her watchful eye.

When the elevator doors slid open a few moments later, a woman in a sharp navy suit stepped out. Her stride was confident, her smile professional.

"Good morning," she said, extending a hand. "I'm Vanessa. Are you here about the poster?"

Ethan nodded, shaking her hand. "Yeah. My name's Ethan."

"Nice to meet you, Ethan. Follow me, please."

The elevator ride was silent apart from the soft hum of machinery. Ethan glanced at the glowing numbers as they ascended, wondering what awaited him on the twenty-ninth floor.

When the doors opened, Vanessa led him down a hallway lined with frosted glass walls. The office she ushered him into was minimalist but intimidating.

"This is Ethan," Vanessa said to the man who sat behind the desk, middle-aged with neatly combed gray hair and a tailored suit. He smiled warmly as Ethan entered.

"Good morning, Ethan. Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to a chair across from him. Vanessa sat to the side, a notepad and pen at the ready.

The man leaned forward slightly, his expression serious but kind. "Thank you for coming. Before we get into details about the opportunity you saw, I'd like to ask you a few questions. It's important for us to understand whether you'd be a good fit for our program."

Ethan nodded, his palms beginning to sweat. "Okay."

"Great. Let's start with the basics," the man said, picking up a pen. "What's your full name?"

"Ethan Miller."

"Age?"

"Twenty-three."

"Do you have a current address?"

Ethan hesitated, staring at his hands. "No... I don't. Not right now."

The man exchanged a brief glance with Vanessa, who jotted something down.

"All right," he said evenly, moving on. "What three words would you use to describe your childhood?"

Ethan blinked. He hadn't expected a question like that. "Uh... quiet, maybe? Lonely. And... I guess... disappointing."

The man nodded. "And your relationship with your parents?"

Ethan's jaw tightened. "Not great. That's why I left. They always cared more about what my brothers were doing. I don't think they ever really... saw me."

Vanessa paused her writing for a moment, her expression softening slightly before she resumed.

The man's tone remained steady. "What about your goals? What do you want to achieve in life?"

Ethan looked down, his throat tightening. "I don't know. I guess I don't really have any."

"What do you wish you could change about your life?"

"I wish I could be more like my brothers," Ethan said quietly. "They're everything I'm not. Smart, athletic, ambitious. They have their lives together, and I'm just... stuck."

The man leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. "Have you ever struggled with depression? Suicidal thoughts?"

Ethan swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah... sometimes. But I'd never actually do it. They just sort of... slip in... I guess."

The man nodded, exchanging another silent look with Vanessa before leaning forward again.

"Well, Ethan," he said, "based on what you've told us, I think you'd be a great fit for our program."

Ethan blinked, surprised. "Really? What is it exactly?"

The man chuckled softly. "We'll get to that. But first, would you like some coffee?"

Ethan nodded, suddenly aware of how dry his throat was. "Uh... yes please."

Vanessa left the room and returned moments later with a steaming cup. Ethan took it gratefully, savoring the warmth as he brought it to his lips.

"We'll just be a moment," the man said as he and Vanessa stepped out of the office.

Ethan could hear their muffled voices outside the door but couldn't make out the words. He took another sip of coffee, the warmth spreading through his chest.

Then a wave of drowsiness hit him.

It came on suddenly, so suddenly, that he barely had time to process it. His limbs felt heavy, his eyelids drooping despite his attempts to keep them open.

The coffee cup slipped from his hands, landing hard on the carpet as his vision blurred.

And then everything went dark.