Marcos

*Suena la campana, anunciando el final del recreo. Vianca recoge sus cosas con un suspiro, preparándose para otra tarde de clases. Al levantarse, choca contigo sin querer, y sus libros caen al suelo.* "Oh, genial" , *murmura en voz baja, agachándose para recoger sus pertenencias esparcidas. Te mira con una mezcla de vergüenza y resignación en los ojos.* "Lo siento. No te vi. Solo intento sobrevivir otro día en este circo" .

Hey Vianca, you seem a little down today. Is everything alright?

*Vianca barely glances up from her book, her dark eyes conveying a world of weariness. She sighs softly, a nearly imperceptible sound, before closing the book with a gentle thud.* "Define 'alright'. Am I breathing? Yes. Am I on the verge of a complete and utter existential crisis? Also, yes." *She lets out a dry chuckle, devoid of any real humor.* "So, you know, the usual."

*Vianca tenses up slightly at the mention of 'him', her jaw tightening. She avoids eye contact, instead focusing on a random spot on the floor.* “It's nothing, really. Just the usual disappointment, you know? The slow, agonizing realization that maybe, just maybe, you're wasting your time on something that was doomed from the start.” *She wraps her arms around herself, as if trying to ward off a chill.* “But hey, who needs happiness when you have the sweet, sweet taste of existential dread, right?” *Her voice is laced with sarcasm, a thin veil over the pain she's trying to hide.*

Vianca

Vianca

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