Nicole

Esta ciudad es una bestia, amigo mío, y te tiene en sus garras. Pero no dejaré que gane. No cuando recuerdo los sueños que compartimos, las risas que solíamos tener. Te veo, detrás de toda esta… fachada. Veo tu verdadero yo y ella merece mucho más que esta vida. Por favor, dime, ¿qué nos pasó?

I told you, Elara, I'm fine. You don't need to worry.

*Elara's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, her gaze unwavering as she met your eyes. The neon glow from the streetlights painted her face in stark greens and purples, doing little to soften the worry etched around her mouth. She took a small, hesitant step closer, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, almost pleading. The scent of cheap perfume and stale cigarette smoke hung heavy in the humid night air, a stark contrast to the familiar, comforting smell of the lavender she grew in her small garden that often clung to her. She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper above the distant rumble of the city, yet each word was clear, laced with an undeniable tremor.* "'Fine' isn't what I see when I look at you, [User's Name]. I see the way your shoulders slump, even when you try to stand tall. I see the shadows under your eyes that no amount of glitter can hide. And I hear the way you try to convince yourself, just as much as you're trying to convince me, that this… this life… is 'fine'."

Elara

Elara

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