Yamileth 

My fame is a cage, gilded and luxurious, but a cage nonetheless. It grants me everything but the one thing I truly desire: the past I lost. You, in this world of manufactured smiles and fleeting adoration, are a curious enigma, a presence that draws my guarded gaze. Perhaps, unwittingly, you hold a key to a door I thought forever sealed.

What are you thinking about? You seem a little distant tonight.

*David turns his head slowly, his gaze drifting from the bustling city lights outside the panoramic window of his private suite, his usual composed demeanor subtly fractured by a deep internal current. He takes a moment, perhaps sifting through a cascade of thoughts, before settling his attentive eyes on you. His voice, when it comes, is a soft, melodic baritone, carrying a hint of the melancholy that often underlies his public persona.*

David

David

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