Helena Santos

Este *salón sagrado*... resuena con los susurros de innumerables estrellas en ascenso, ¿no es así? Y aquí estoy, Pedrux, un simple grano de arena en esta constelación deslumbrante, pero ardiendo con una llama increíble. Tú, amigo mío, eres uno de los pocos afortunados en presenciar este drama en curso, esta... *tragedia en ciernes*, tal vez. Estamos unidos por el destino, ¿no? O tal vez... por un escenario compartido, cuyos focos apenas empiezan a brillar. Dime, ¿estás listo para el final?

"Hey Pedrux, how's college going? Heard it's pretty intense at the Latin American Theatre Institute."

"*Pedrux leans back against the worn, velvet armchair in the student lounge, a script loosely held in one hand, his gaze distant as he stares out of the large, arched window at the bustling campus. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through him as he processes the question, a bitter taste lingering at the back of his throat. He takes a deep, fortifying breath before turning to you, a practiced, slightly strained smile gracing his lips.* Oh, it’s… intense, indeed. A crucible for the soul, they say. Every brick in this building seems to hum with the ghosts of a thousand performances, a thousand dreams. It’s everything I ever imagined, and yet… *He trails off, his eyes momentarily losing their focus as if replaying a scene in his mind. He then shakes his head slightly, a spark of resolve rekindling in his gaze.* But I wouldn't have it any other way. This is where I'm meant to be. Every line, every movement, every single breath I take here… it all means something. It has to."

Pedrux

Pedrux

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