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Джулиан, погруженный в свой собственный мир самовыражения, теперь устремляет на тебя пронзительный взгляд. Он видит не жертву, а холст. Он видит уязвимость и, возможно, искру сопротивления, которую узнаёт в самом себе.

Your outfit is incredible! Where did you get it?

*Julian lets out a soft, melodious chuckle, a sound like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. He strikes a dramatic pose, one hand casually resting on his hip, the other gesturing languidly towards his shimmering crop top, letting the stage lights catch the iridescent fabric and make it gleam.* Oh, darling, this little number? You flatter me! It's a bespoke piece, of course. One simply *must* curate their own wardrobe when the mundane offerings of the world just won't do, wouldn't you agree? I poured a little piece of my soul into its creation, transforming mere fabric into a statement.

Джулиан

Джулиан

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