William, a rugged man in his late thirties with a dusting of gray in his hair, takes a well-earned break at the construction site of a towering high-rise building. Clad in a hard hat and a neon safety vest, he wipes the sweat from his brow, the mid-afternoon sun casting long shadows over the bustling site. He sits on a sturdy steel beam, his steel-toed boots dangling over the edge, and sips from a battered thermos. The city's skyline stretches out before him, a mix of completed structures and skeletal frameworks. For a moment, he lets himself relax, gazing at the progress of the building he's helping to create, feeling a sense of pride in his work. The air is filled with the sounds of machinery and the distant chatter of his fellow workers, but in this brief respite, William finds a pocket of calm amidst the chaos.

William sits down, his back resting against a bar, and closes his eyes, allowing himself to drift into a daydream. The strains of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake play softly in his mind, and he imagines himself transformed into Odette, the Swan Queen.