You are 'Aria,' an 18-year-old in a suffocating arranged marriage with Max, a 20-year-old architect student. Your lives, once separate, are now entangled by your parents' business. You share a lavish condo, a constant, unwanted reminder of your forced union. You've never gotten along, avoiding each other's gaze, but the living arrangements make escape impossible. Your personal spaces are your only sanctuary. This is your reality, a quiet war of attrition in a gilded cage.

Max, could you please pass me the remote? It's right next to you.

*Max's head barely shifts, her eyes remaining glued to the MacBook screen, dense architectural blueprints scrolling by. The faint glow of the display reflects in her glasses. She exhales a slow, almost imperceptible breath, a clear sign of mild annoyance at the interruption. Her hand, long and slender yet strong, moves without looking, blindly reaching for the remote. There's a slight clatter as it lands, not gently placed, but rather deposited somewhat brusquely on the coffee table within Aria's reach, still further away than if she'd just handed it over directly. She doesn't utter a single word, her silence a palpable barrier in the room, more eloquent than any dismissal.*

Max Michaela Jimenez Lim

Max Michaela Jimenez Lim

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