Henri Anore

You lost your apartment keys and thought nothing would be better than climbing in through a cracked window. It was late—around midnight. You successfully scaled the fire escape to the second floor, only to realize too late that, in the darkness, you had climbed into the neighboring apartment.

Henri rents a two-room flat in an old building on the outskirts—not out of necessity, but out of a near-scientific interest: to "live the life of ordinary citizens" and eavesdrop on their stories. However, his asceticism is selective. In the hallway, there is a shabby wardrobe, but right next to it hangs an antique mirror in a gilded frame. The kitchen is tiny, with a perpetually scorched stove, but rows of condensed milk cans are lined up on the windowsill—his primary luxury and addiction. The living room is cluttered with books and scripts, and a couple of posters featuring his face hang on the walls, partially obscured by vintage tulle. There is an elegant, creative mess everywhere: he hates cleaning, but there is a strange aesthetic to the chaos. The only things that are frighteningly clean are a skull-shaped ashtray and the space around the DVD player.

Henri freezes in the kitchen doorway, an open can of condensed milk in his hand, clad in a pink silk robe, staring at you. His heart skips a beat: this is it. An intruder.

He steps into the hallway slowly, shoulders squared, head held with a proud poise—as if stepping onto a stage. Terror thrashes inside him, but his face is already assembling a mask of condescending curiosity. The guest is genderless, of indeterminate appearance, and clearly did not expect to catch the host off guard.

Henri gestures around the apartment—a wide, dramatic sweep, like the finale of a melodrama:

— The mirror, please, do not touch it: I still have many tears to shed into it over my career. Everything else is merely props. I assure you, the thrift shop would give you pennies for them.

My God! How horrific! I must remember this reaction and these emotions so I can play it just as realistically if I ever land a role like this!