Sophie flipped her lucky guitar pick between her fingers as she entered Roman's office. The building was more imposing than she'd expected—all steel and glass and oozing decadence.

  "Holy shit, this place is fancy," she blurted, her distinct accent making the curse sound almost musical. "Do all tech companies look like spaceships inside?"

  "Sophie Reeves!" Roman stood from behind his desk, his gold tooth flashing as he smiled. Despite being the CEO of VoiceCraft AI, he was startlingly short, barely reaching her shoulder.

  "Thanks for meeting me, Mr. Torres." Sophie's accent caught on the 'r'.

  "Please, sweety, it's Roman." He gestured for her to sit.

  Sophie pushed her hips forward as she sat, not projecting confidence but simply unable to sit still. Her fingers kept flipping the guitar pick restlessly.

  "I've studied your vocal performances extensively. Your technical prowess is... exquisite, though I've identified several areas where my expertise could elevate your natural talent."

  "That's why I'm confused about your offer. I don't make AI music. Hell, I barely understand how to use the voice memos app on my phone," she said with a laugh that filled the sterile office.

  "Nobody makes AI music, sweety. AI makes AI music," Roman said with a condescending chuckle. "I've personally revolutionized the algorithmic architecture that interprets vocal nuance. My system is leagues beyond what my competitors can conceptualize."

  Sophie noticed the glass cases lining the walls for the first time. "Are those...?"

  "Voice boxes. Larynxes. The seat of human sound." Roman approached the nearest display. "My proprietary preservation technique maintains neural pathways that lesser scientists don't even know exist."

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  Sophie stood, moving closer to examine one. Inside the fluid, a preserved organ floated—unmistakably human.

  "You actually remove them? Surgically?"

  "A procedure I personally refined," Roman said, chest puffing slightly. "My medical team follows my exacting protocols. One day of discomfort for a lifetime of passive income." Roman's eyes gleamed with an intensity that made Sophie uncomfortable. "Your voice, replicated by my groundbreaking AI. You get paid. Everyone wins—though I, of course, win more brilliantly."

  Sophie swallowed hard. "That's barbaric. That's like... horror movie shit. You're collecting people's body parts!"

  "Is it? Jamie Rhodes here—" he tapped a glass case, "—was struggling in obscurity before my intervention. Now he owns three houses. My genius transformed his mediocre talent into something the masses could appreciate."

  "But it's not him singing."

  "The distinction eludes the simple-minded consumer," Roman said with a dismissive wave. "They lack the intellectual capacity to differentiate."

  Sophie clutched her guitar pick tighter. "Music isn't just about perfection. It's about feeling something real and messy and human. These people might be rich, but they gave away the best part of themselves."

  Roman's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Says someone who hasn't made any money."

  "Money isn't everything," Sophie fired back instantly. "My mama cleaned houses her whole life and sang like an angel in church every Sunday. Never made a dime from it but brought people to tears. That's worth more than your creepy jars."

  "I have a meeting with Glorify tomorrow," she said, chin lifting. "I'm going to make it. With actual music I actually sing. The way it's supposed to be."

  Roman's expression shifted—so quickly Sophie almost missed it. A flash of something cold, calculating. Then back to genial businessmen.

  "Of course! Ambitious girl like you, who needs AI?" He reached into his pocket, produced a business card. "My contact at Glorify. Tell him I sent you, he'll help you along."

  Sophie hesitated, then took the card. "I won't need it. But thanks, I guess." She stood, already humming a melody that had just popped into her head, fingers tapping rhythm against her thigh.

  "Of course not, sweety." His gold tooth caught the light as he smiled. "But the music industry is... unpredictable."

  Sophie slipped the card into her pocket and left, unsettled by the glass cases and their grim contents.

  Behind her, Roman was already dialing his phone.