The hum of computer fans filled the editing room. Noa leaned back in her chair, eyes half-closed, as the progress bar on her monitor inched forward. Another late night at the station, another hour waiting for render to finish.
She reached for her old sketchbook, its corners soft and worn from years of scribbles. Flipping it open, she smiled faintly. Page after page of him—Ren. The perfect man she'd never actually met, except in the quick glances she stole at work. He was smart, kind, and had a smile that made her chest tighten every time.
"Just a little more shading around the jaw…" she murmured, pencil tapping the page.
She traced the lines of Ren's soft hair, carefully adjusting the shading under his chin. She liked to imagine him turning to her, giving her that warm smile he gave everyone else. Except this time, only for her.
Suddenly, the page twitched.
Noa froze. The ink lines on Ren's face rippled, as if the paper were water. She blinked, thinking she was hallucinating from lack of sleep.
Then the page began to glow.
"What the—" she whispered.
A sudden whoosh of wind burst from the sketchbook, sending her papers flying across the editing bay. She stumbled back as the glow turned into a swirling vortex right in the middle of the page.
"Wait, wait, WAIT—!"
With a loud *pop*, something flew out of the sketchbook and crashed onto the floor in front of her. Dust rose in a small cloud.
Noa's heart pounded. On the ground lay… a man?
He slowly lifted his head, grinning. Except his smile was crooked, a little too wide. His hair was messy, eyebrows thick and uneven. And… was that a patchy attempt at a mustache?
"Hey there, cutie," he croaked. "You must be Noa, right?"
Noa's jaw dropped. This wasn't the charming Ren from her sketch. This was… *something else.*
"Who… the hell… are you?" she stammered.
The man leapt up with surprising energy. "Name's Reno!" he said, puffing out his chest proudly. "I'm here because you drew me so beautifully. Now, let's get you that dream romance you've always wanted!"
Noa could only stare in horror as the strange man—*her sketch*—brushed dust off his ridiculous clothes and started poking around the editing room.
"Oh, cool buttons! What's this do?" he said, reaching toward the switch for the studio's live broadcast feed.
"NO! Don't touch that—!"
It was going to be a long night.