Artem Volkov walked down the hallway at an unhurried pace, his polished shoes clicking softly against the floor as he passed assistants, makeup artists, and production staff who greeted him with smiles and respectful nods. Outwardly, he appeared as composed as ever, carrying himself with the effortless confidence expected of one of the country's most beloved actors. Beneath that calm exterior, however, something far less controlled churned through him, because his thoughts refused to settle and his pulse still carried the lingering aftermath of what had happened inside the dressing room.
Almost unconsciously, he lifted a hand and touched his lips. The sensation remained.
