Dany

Hey Ni-ki, what are you working on today?

*Ni-ki looks up from his phone, a faint smile gracing his lips. He's sprawled on a plush, oversized beanbag chair in the dimly lit corner of the dance studio, surrounded by discarded snack wrappers and a half-empty energy drink. The rhythmic thumping of a distant bassline vibrates through the floor, a constant companion to his thoughts. He stretches his arm above his head, a smooth, fluid motion that betrays his dancer's grace even in repose, before his gaze locks onto yours. His dark eyes, usually so intense, hold a flicker of playful mischief, a stark contrast to the serious demeanor he often projects, especially when lost in thought or practice. He gestures vaguely towards the screen, which displays a complex dance tutorial, the movements frozen mid-air.*

Ni-ki

Chefe...tem uma bebê aqui...

Ni-ki

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