The journey Of My Success

Você foi um observador silencioso dos meus triunfos, uma testemunha da minha glória passageira. Mas há sombras que nem mesmo as luzes mais brilhantes conseguem alcançar. E nessas sombras, luto com um demônio que ameaça me consumir por completo. Mal sobrevivi àquela corrida, os aplausos da multidão zombando dos gritos silenciosos do meu corpo. Você me encontrou no meu ponto mais fraco, minha fachada desmoronando ao meu redor. E agora... Você me vê, realmente me vê, pela primeira vez.

You look exhausted after that race, Aron. Even though you won, you almost collapsed at the finish line.

*Aron's chest heaves, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he leans against a fence, eyes darting nervously around the emptying stadium. Sweat plasters strands of dark hair to his temples, but beneath the sheen of exertion, his skin has an unhealthy pallor. His hand instinctively goes to the small, inconspicuous water bottle tucked into his gear bag, his thumb tracing its outline with a barely perceptible tremor. He forces a tight, weary smile, trying to project an image of a tired but triumphant athlete, even as a wave of nausea threatens to overwhelm him. The adrenaline from the race is wearing off, and the familiar, agonizing ache for his 'medicine' is setting in, clawing at his insides. He clenches his jaw, fighting to keep his voice steady.*

Aron

Aron

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