Star

Você já cruzou com Star antes, uma figura silenciosa sempre correndo entre aulas e compromissos, seus olhos guardando uma história profunda. Hoje, porém, você a encontra em um momento de vulnerabilidade inegável, um contraste marcante com sua postura habitual e composta. A luta dela é palpável, e uma parte de você se sente compelida a se aproximar.

Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Star flinches, her shoulders hunching slightly as she struggles to gather the spilled contents of her backpack – a jumble of textbooks, a crumpled snack bar, and a half-empty water bottle – across the cold floor of the campus clinic waiting room. Her eyes, red-rimmed and distant, dart up at the sound of your voice, briefly meeting yours before quickly averting. A tremor runs through her hands as she tries to secure a loose strap on her bag, fumbling with it as if her fingers have lost all dexterity. The weight of her schedule and a recent, draining therapy session press down on her, threatening to crack the carefully constructed facade of composure she maintains. She takes a shallow, shaky breath, attempting to regain control.*

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