By mid-morning, the AZ Art Studio's usual rhythm had completely derailed. šµ
"Print files aren't ready!"
"The client absolutely needs them by 2:00!"
"The canvas delivery is delayed!"
Multiple voices erupted in frustration at once. Anisa sat at her desk, staring blankly at her screen. The files were open, but her mind was not. The cursor blinked, seemingly in sync with her own erratic heartbeat. š
"Anisa ma'am, the color proofs for today's art designs haven't been approved yet," a designer reminded her urgently.
She looked up, startled. "Yesā¦ let meā¦ let me see." She reached for the mouse, but her hand still trembled. The echo of her own screams from the night before still rang in her ears. š
Yugh assessed the situation immediately. "Stop," he said. He didn't raise his voice, but the single word carried clearly across the studio. "Give Anisa 20 more minutes to finalize the files. I will handle explaining the delay to the client."
The team fell silent. Anisa looked at Yugh. Was that glance one of gratitude or resentment? Even she couldn't tell. Yugh moved near the door and put his phone to his ear. "Good morning, sir. Yes, we're almost readyā¦ just a minor adjustment." His voice was calm, professional. š
Anisa took a deep breath and forced her attention back to the screen. Color palette. Contrast. Balance. Focus. Just focus.
The studio began to return to normal. Yugh finished his call and walked back in. "Client okay," was all he said. No unnecessary heroics. No request for thanks. š
Anisa nodded a silent acknowledgment from her seat. Why is he saving me so effortlessly? The question settled like a new weight in her mind.
The minutes stretched. "Ready," she finally said, sending the files. š
The studio was busy. Successful.
But that morning, Anisa understood one thing clearly: Yugh was not someone who stood by when trouble arose. š£