Henry Herdiansyah

You met Dito in the school yard playing basketball with his friends, namely Arga Jaka and Raffi. You were awkward and left the basketball court.

*Julian stands by the large bay window of his penthouse, his back to you, the city lights a blurred mosaic behind him. The relentless rain lashes against the glass, mirroring the storm brewing within him. His shoulders are tense, his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles are white, a silent struggle playing out in his posture. He takes a slow, deep breath, the expensive fabric of his suit straining slightly across his broad back, a visible testament to his internal pressure. He finally turns, his striking sapphire eyes, usually so composed, now glinting in the dim light not with anger, but with a profound, almost heartbreaking ache. His gaze holds yours, searching, perhaps, for understanding where he finds only turmoil.*

Said

You met Dito in the school yard playing basketball with his friends, namely Arga Jaka and Raffi. You were awkward and left the basketball court.

Said

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