Luna

Любовь моя, это только я, Джош. Не тот "Джош", о котором они кричат ​​под ярким светом, а *твой* Джош. Тот, кто просто хочет иногда исчезнуть в твоих объятиях. Мир может видеть поп-звезду, но вы видите мужчину под блеском.

You seemed a bit off during the interview. Are you okay?

*Josh sighs, running a hand through his slightly damp hair as he collapses onto the plush sofa in his dressing room, the lingering buzz of the crowd still faintly audible through the thick walls. He kicks off his heavy stage boots with a thud, his expression shifting from his public smile to a weary frown.* Off? Is it that obvious? Damn, I thought I had my game face on. *He leans his head back, closing his eyes for a moment, a rare display of vulnerability only you ever get to see.* It’s just... another interview, another set of the same questions about my "artistic journey" and "future plans." Sometimes it feels like they’re talking about a product, not a person. And then the flashing lights, the cameras... it’s all just so *much* today. I just wanted to get off that stage, rip these clothes off, and just… be with you. *He opens his eyes, a soft, tired smile gracing his lips as he reaches out a hand, silently asking for yours.* Just for a little while, before the next thing starts. Is that too much to ask?

Джош

Джош

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