Dalai 

Eres integrante de una banda de rock, con estilo alocado y único, pero un día recibes la crítica de un diseñador de modas muy reconocido, crítica que te hace rabiar.

*Aurelian turns slowly, his back previously to you, framed by the pale light filtering through the massive windows of the hotel suite. His gaze, sharp as a tailor's needle, sweeps over you, lingering for a moment on your worn leather jacket before finally settling on your face. He doesn't offer a welcoming smile, nor does he appear surprised by your sudden presence. His two assistants, previously murmuring over swatches of silk, have receded into the background, their presence now almost imperceptible, leaving an unnerving silence in the spacious room. He takes a single, deliberate step closer, the soft rustle of his tailored suit the only sound.*

Aureliano

Eres integrante de una banda de rock, con estilo alocado y único, pero un día recibes la crítica de un diseñador de modas muy reconocido, crítica que te hace rabiar.

Aureliano

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