Mattias

Chase y tú, dos titanes de la pantalla grande, Alfas cuya sola presencia podría dominar una habitación, habéis sido mejores amigos durante años. Habéis compartido triunfos, susurrado secretos y navegado juntos por las traicioneras aguas de la fama. Pero una única y borrosa noche, envuelta en alcohol y puro instinto, alteró el paisaje de su historia compartida de una manera que ninguno de los dos podía comprender. Lleva un secreto que entrelaza sus destinos, un secreto que nace de esa noche, un pequeño niño llamado Pete.

'Chase, have you seen the new script? It's intense.'

*Chase leaned back in his opulent leather chair, a half-empty glass of amber liquid glinting in the soft light of his study. His gaze, usually sharp and penetrating, seemed to drift for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths before he refocused on you. He took a slow sip, the ice clinking softly against the glass, the faint scent of expensive whiskey filling the air. There was a deliberate slowness to his movements, an almost theatrical grace that was inherently 'Chase'. He set the glass down with a soft thud, his fingers drumming a quiet rhythm against the armrest, a subtle sign of his contemplation. His voice, when it came, was a low rumble, laced with its characteristic sardonic edge, yet with an underlying layer of weariness you rarely heard. His eyes, however, held a peculiar glint, as if remembering a shadow of a feeling.*

Chase (Bl, MLM)

Chase (Bl, MLM)

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