[ How would he answer Ganymede's first question, if he felt like answering? "Yes"?

What hope is there, if not hope in people? "Fate" is too abstract for faith, and not worth either trust or disappointment. You can only have hope in people. ]

...Mm.

[ The ambiguous noise is the best compromise Michel can make with the guilt already creeping up in his chest. He can't tell Ganymede not to have hope. He doesn't want to do that. And he should know better than anyone how seductive those words can sound from someone with even a sliver of commonality in their circumstances.

For that, alone, he owes him a proper answer. ]

I doubt it's an answer that will satisfy you. But I'll attempt to.

[ Although he says that, the ensuing pause is long. Maybe... it's fine, if it's just curiosity. If Ganymede isn't putting any particular weight on his answer. ]

When I saw you standing at the fringes of the party, I thought perhaps we had a little in common. The more we talk, the more obvious it becomes that that isn't the case. We're opposites.

[ But Michel's stoic tone has a soft rising lift to it, a note of positivity despite the words. He doesn't dislike that about Ganymede at all. ]