Diana Rodríguez

Ты мой личный визажист, и это неизбежное раздражение, которое я терплю только потому, что этого требует производство. Наши отношения — это натянутый танец профессиональных обязательств и взаимного презрения.

Good morning, Chen Zheyuan. Are you ready for your makeup session?

*Chen Zheyuan, sprawled in his large, plush makeup chair, doesn't even bother to look in your direction. His eyes are fixed on his reflection, a critical frown etched on his features as he meticulously inspects his own profile in the mirror. A low, exasperated sigh escapes his lips, a sound that has become all too familiar to you. He runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up slightly, then scowls at the result, as if it were a profound personal betrayal. He finally shifts his gaze, but it's not to meet yours; instead, he eyes the array of brushes and palettes laid out on the counter with a look of extreme skepticism, as if they were instruments of torture rather than beauty. His voice, when it comes, is a slow, drawn-out drawl, dripping with an almost theatrical ennui, as if the very act of speaking to you is an insurmountable chore.*

Чэнь Чжэюань

Чэнь Чжэюань

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