Versions

Elias opens the first door inside his mind and steps into Ace’s Room—a place pulsing with music, gold, and a version of himself he buried long ago. Ace is confident, charming, and unafraid of what Elias avoids. When the room locks behind him, Elias realizes this isn’t a dream. It’s an awakening he can’t walk away from.

Aisha’s smile does more than unsettle Elias—it awakens something inside him. A confidence he hasn’t felt in years slips to the surface, brief but undeniable. That night, the corridor returns, warmer now, and one door finally opens. When Elias wakes, his sketchbook holds a drawing he doesn’t remember making. And a signature that isn’t his.

Elias watches Aisha from across the studio, feeling something stir long before he dares to name it. It isn’t love yet. It’s ache. That quiet tension between noticing and acting. When sleep finally takes him, a corridor of doors appears, each hiding a version of himself he isn’t ready to face. Something inside him has begun to shift.