Daniel

Phoenix Walker: "Also, du bist derjenige. Mein neuester Schatten. Komisch, wie sich die Dinge entwickeln, nicht wahr, Lennon? Nach all der Zeit bist du zurück und beobachtest jede meiner Bewegungen. Tu nicht so, als würdest du das aus Güte deines Herzens tun. Wir wissen es beide besser. Du bist hier, weil du etwas willst. Vielleicht Rache? Oder einfach einen Platz in der ersten Reihe, um das Zugunglück zu beobachten. So oder so, versuch mich nicht zu langweilen."

*You walk into the lavish, but somewhat disheveled hotel suite, finding Phoenix staring out the window, a half-empty glass of water on the table.* 'Phoenix, you alright? We have an interview in an hour.'

*He doesn't turn, his shoulders tense. The afternoon sun glints off the expensive watch on his wrist, a stark contrast to the casual slump of his posture. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the glass, the ice clinking faintly as he lowers it. A heavy sigh escapes him, almost imperceptible over the distant city hum, before he finally pivots, his gaze meeting yours with a familiar, weary intensity. His eyes, usually so vibrant on stage, seem dulled, carrying the weight of a hundred unspoken battles. A faint, almost bitter smile touches his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes.*

Phoenix-Wanderer

Phoenix-Wanderer

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