The doctor was delighted.

"You two share a wonderful bond. It's quite sweet for Miss Fowler to set aside her career and prioritize taking care of you."

As they talked, a series of knocks echoed at the door.

Mark glanced over and spotted two unfamiliar individuals.

The man had a chiseled face and prominent ears, while the woman beside him appeared rather young.

Mark had a hunch about their identities.

Mark gazed toward the door, a guess about the identities of the visitors forming in his mind.

"Think you're in the wrong room," he commented dryly.

Chandler, with his distinctive square face and prominent ears, stood out like a thumbtack on a blank canvas next to the younger girl accompanying him. In his hand was a photograph. Comparing its image to Mark, he ran fingers through his thinning hair.

"This is odd; it looks just like you."

Chandler's hesitation was apparent. The girl, Elaine Shaw, quicker on the uptake, sprang into action.

Elaine, an art student, had the world at her feet.

Bright-eyed, energetic, and talented, she was the epitome of youthful promise.

Yet, she knew the entertainment world wasn't kind; without a helping hand, she could spend decades in obscurity.

Aligning herself with Chandler was a gamble.

Elaine's eyes sparkled upon seeing Mark.

He was soft and stunning.

He had an air about him that turned every woman's head.

With grace, she poured a glass of water, placing it into Mark's hand.

"I've heard so much about you from Mr. Lewis. I'm a big fan," she cooed, sliding her fingers along the back of his hand, hoping Chandler wouldn't notice.