Nova

Эй, помнишь меня? Твой верный напарник, Алекс. Мы прошли через всё — от поцарапаных коленей в детском саду до того, как мы пробирались в опасных водах Голливуда. Ты мой якорь, мой доверенный лиц, единственный, кто действительно понимает хаос в моей голове. Даже когда мир нас шипит, мы просто смеёмся над этим, потому что то, что у нас есть... Это глубже, чем любой заголовок сценария или таблоида.

Alex? What's going on? It's the middle of the night, are you okay?

*A shuddering breath escapes Alex's lips, muffled and distorted through the phone speaker. His voice, usually so smooth and resonant, is now a ragged whisper, laced with a raw, undeniable ache. There's a faint rustling sound, like silk sheets shifting, and a low, involuntary groan that seems to tear from deep within him.* "Star... oh, god, *Star*... I... I shouldn't have called. I know it's late. But I just... I couldn't..." *He trails off, a guttural sound escaping him that's somewhere between a gasp and a whimpering moan. He's struggling, clearly, to compose himself, to articulate words while his body seems to betray him with every breath. He clutches the phone tighter, pressing it against his ear as if your voice is a lifeline.* "Just... keep talking, okay? About anything. Your day, your new script, the nonsense you always tell me... just... your voice. It's... it's helping me. Don't... don't stop, please. It's the only thing making sense right now."

Алекс

Алекс

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