Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 209: Pitch Perfect
The meeting room gleamed under soft fluorescent light—clean lines, chrome edges, a long glass table that reflected every flicker of movement.
The company logo shimmered faintly on the wall, and a tray of untouched coffee cups sat at one end.
Georgia stood near the projector, arms crossed, the picture of calm authority. "Alright," she said, scanning her clipboard. "Team B—Marketing and PR. You’re up."
Bella nudged Luca gently under the table. "That’s us, legend," she whispered.
Luca drew a slow breath, stood, and straightened his blazer. "Showtime."
He walked to the front with that easy stride of his—confident but not cocky—the kind of charm that looked natural even when it wasn’t.
Behind him, Bella queued up their slides, and the first image flickered to life: a sleek, matte bottle glinting under studio light.
"Good morning," Luca began, his voice steady but warm. "We’re here to present our campaign concept for the new eco-friendly bottle line—a product that’s not just sustainable, but aspirational."
Georgia’s gaze sharpened, intrigued despite herself.
Luca continued, pacing slowly, the faintest rhythm in his tone. "The idea came from one question: what makes people change habits? Guilt doesn’t. Trends do. So, we’re not selling a bottle—we’re selling an upgrade. A lifestyle choice that makes sustainability look good."
He clicked the remote. The next slide flashed up: quick clips of mock influencer videos, campus shots, people swapping out old bottles with a tagline below—’Upgrade Your Sip.’
A ripple of quiet laughter passed through the room—impressed, not mocking.
Bella stepped forward, her timing seamless. "Our target audience focuses on Gen Z and young professionals—image-driven, eco-conscious, and always online. Our strategy leverages micro-influencers and campus partnerships, supported by short-form social campaigns and brand collaborations."
Camille followed, clear and confident. "We’ll tie the message to limited editions for awareness days—Earth Week, Plastic-Free July—creating both scarcity and purpose."
Wei Chen added the final layer, his tone precise. "Projected reach within the first quarter is 2.5 million impressions across platforms, with engagement driven through user-generated content challenges. Hashtag: #UpgradeYourSip."
When the slides ended, Luca looked up—that slow, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. "We believe people don’t just want a bottle that’s good for the planet. They want one that looks good in their hand."
He let the silence sit for a beat. Not awkward—intentional. Then he glanced toward Georgia. "That’s our pitch."
Georgia said nothing at first. She walked forward, heels clicking, eyes flicking between their notes and the final slide.
Finally, she looked up. "You built this in a week?"
"Yes, ma’am," Bella said quickly, trying not to sound too proud.
Georgia’s lips curved, just barely. "It shows."
Luca tilted his head. "In a good way or a bad way?"
She turned her gaze to him—sharp, unreadable—then let it soften just enough. "In a good way. You all pulled something coherent, catchy, and marketable under time pressure. That’s what we do here."
Bella exhaled, shoulders dropping in relief.
Camille and Wei Chen exchanged a quick, quiet high-five. Liam even smiled.
As they packed their things, Georgia added, "Luca."
He looked up. "Yes?"
Her expression was unreadable, but her tone wasn’t unkind. "Good instincts. Keep them. Just learn when to slow down."
He grinned. "Noted."
She nodded once. "You’ll present this to the client next week. Refine the visuals, tighten the message. Don’t lose that spark."
When they left the meeting room, Bella elbowed him playfully. "Told you, legend. You’ve got the magic."
Luca smirked, though his voice softened. "Team effort, Bella. Always."
"Still," she teased, "Georgia looked like she almost smiled. That’s practically a standing ovation."
He laughed, the sound echoing down the hall. "Guess we’re getting somewhere."
The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, releasing them into the lunch rush.
The company café was bright and open, smelling faintly of roasted coffee and warm bread.
The crowd was just trickling in—soft laughter, trays clattering, the distant hum of espresso machines.
Liam picked the corner table, as usual—quiet, a little out of the way.
Luca followed, balancing two trays, one for himself, one stacked with too many side dishes.
Bella raised an eyebrow. "You feeding an army?"
"Fuel," Luca said simply, sliding into his seat. "Genius burns calories."
Wei Chen chuckled under his breath. "Or stress."
"Same thing," Luca replied with a grin, cracking open his drink.
The conversation flowed easy—little jokes, light teasing, that rhythm of people who had finally started moving as a team.
Bella kept talking about the client pitch, Camille was already sketching an idea on a napkin, and Liam was quietly typing notes on his tablet.
For a moment, Luca leaned back, watching them. It wasn’t loud or dramatic—just... good.
The kind of moment that slipped by unnoticed if you weren’t paying attention.
Bella snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hey, dreamboat. Earth to Luca. You zoning out or planning our world domination?"
He blinked, then smirked. "Bit of both. Gotta keep the legend alive."
She laughed, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."
"Admit it," he said, stealing a fry from her plate, "you’d miss me if I wasn’t."
"Only because we need you for the client pitch," she shot back. "Don’t get sentimental."
The table broke into laughter again.
Even Liam cracked a faint smile.
As they finished up,Georgia’s voice carried from across the café—calm, clipped, unmistakable. "Team B, good work this morning."
They all froze for a split second. She walked past with her coffee, not stopping, not even glancing their way—but that was Georgia’s version of a standing ovation.
When she disappeared around the corner, Bella exhaled dramatically. "Okay, that’s it. Day officially made."
Luca grinned. "Told you. History."
"Alright, legend," Wei Chen said, stacking his tray. "Let’s just hope the client’s as easy to impress as Georgia."
Luca leaned back in his chair, gaze flicking to the window—sunlight sliding through glass, the city alive outside. "We’ll make it work," he said simply. "We always do."
By the time the sun slipped low, the glass walls of the building caught every streak of gold.
The office hum had quieted—screens dimmed, papers stacked, chairs pushed in with that end-of-day relief.
Wei Chen and Camille were the first to go.
He slung his backpack over one shoulder, she tucked her sketchbook under her arm, and they waved at the others as they left. "See you tomorrow!" Camille called, her voice light.
Liam followed soon after, quiet as always, offering a small nod to Georgia on his way out.
Bella shut down her computer with a theatrical sigh. "My brain’s fried," she announced. "If I dream about ad slogans tonight, I’m suing the company."
Luca chuckled, stretching his arms over his head. "Please, you live for this."
"Maybe," she admitted, grinning. "But still. I need carbs and a nap."
They walked out together, their laughter echoing faintly in the polished hallway.
At the doors, Bella nudged him with her elbow. "You did good today, future legend. Don’t get used to me saying it."
"I already am," Luca said, smiling as she rolled her eyes and waved him off.
When she disappeared down the path, he lingered—leaning against the wall by the lobby’s tall windows.
The evening light slanted in, painting the marble floors honey-gold.
The building was quieter now, the hum replaced by the faint murmur of traffic outside.
He checked his watch. Five minutes.
Then Noel appeared—that steady, familiar presence cutting through the quiet.
He spotted Luca instantly, the corners of his mouth lifting in that soft, knowing way.
"You waited," Noel said as he approached, voice low and warm.
"Of course," Luca replied, pushing off the wall. "Can’t let my partner walk home alone. Bad PR for the legend brand."
Noel laughed, the sound small but full. "I heard you did great today."
Luca rubbed the back of his neck, pretending nonchalance but failing miserably. "Oh. Maybe. Georgia didn’t throw a single insult, so I guess that’s progress."
Noel tilted his head, eyes bright. "That’s more than progress. You’ve really been trying, Lu."
Something in Luca’s smirk softened. "Yeah. Guess I wanted to see if I could actually pull it off."
Noel stepped closer, close enough that their shoulders brushed. "You did more than that."
For a long moment, neither spoke.
The city outside pulsed through the lobby glass—neon flickers casting restless colors across the marble floor, while streams of cars blurred past like veins of light feeding a living, breathing heart.
Noel’s reflection wavered against the window, caught between the glow and shadow.
He finally exhaled, the sound small but grounding, and reached for his bag.
"Come on," he said, his voice soft but teasing. "Let’s go home before you start rehearsing your award speech."
Luca’s lips curved, that familiar spark of mischief lighting his face. "Too late," he said, falling into step beside him. "I already have an opening line."
"Of course you do," Noel replied, half a sigh, half a smile.
They pushed through the glass doors, met by the tender hush of evening—the hum of traffic mellowed by distance, the faint scent of rain clinging to warm pavement.
The evening felt almost intimate, like the city itself had paused to breathe with them.
Side by side, they crossed the street, their laughter carried briefly on the wind before it faded into the rhythm of passing cars.
The lights above shimmered, reflecting in puddles like scattered constellations.
And as they walked, the noise of the world softened, the moment stretching into something unspoken but real—the quiet understanding that, somehow, the city wasn’t just where they lived.
It was theirs. A secret they’d earned together.
