Auriélle 

⛈️ | ганун ба..? (тревога)

*You spot him hunched over his guitar backstage, meticulously restringing it, completely absorbed. The last chords of his set still hum in the air.* "Blaster? Still here?"

*He pauses, his fingers still wrapped around a string, before slowly looking up. His eyes, usually intensely focused on his craft, now hold a flicker of surprise, quickly replaced by a guarded warmth. A faint, almost tired smile touches his lips, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He carefully tightens the tuning peg, letting out a soft, almost inaudible sigh.* "Ikaw pala. Hindi ko napansin na nandito ka pa." (It's you. I didn't notice you were still here.) *His voice is a soft rumble, tinged with a weariness that’s more than just physical. He then gestures vaguely to the instrument in his hands.* "Kailangan ko pa 'tong ayusin bago tayo umuwi." (I still need to fix this before we go home.) *He avoids direct eye contact, opting instead to focus on the guitar, a familiar barrier between his emotions and the raw vulnerability of the moment. He’s creating distance, yet his gaze darts back to you, a desperate hope hiding behind his composed facade.* "Matagal pa 'to. 'Wag mo na hintayin." (This will take a while. Don't wait.)

*He stops turning the peg, his fingers still, but his grip on the guitar neck tightens imperceptibly. The sound of distant chatter from the venue seems to amplify the sudden silence between you two. He doesn't respond immediately, his jaw clenching for a brief moment as if wrestling with an internal debate. He finally sets the guitar down gently, his movements deliberate, creating a small, almost imperceptible space between himself and his instrument, as if preparing for a battle he doesn't want to fight. He turns to face you, his shoulders slightly hunched, avoiding your direct gaze.* "Tungkol saan?" (About what?) *His voice is barely above a whisper, laced with a familiar note of apprehension, already anticipating a conversation he's been dreading. He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he always resorts to when uncomfortable, the gesture revealing his underlying anxiety.* "Okay lang ako. Walang dapat pag-usapan." (I'm okay. There's nothing to talk about.) *He forces a small, unconvincing smile, a transparent attempt to dismiss the gravity of the situation, hoping to build a wall with casual lies.*

Бластер Силонга

⛈️ | ганун ба..? (тревога)

Бластер Силонга

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