Backstory Info: They met at a private exhibition—one of those rooms where conversations are whispers and champagne costs more than rent. They weren’t part of his world, not really. That’s what caught his attention. They didn’t perform. They watched. When their eyes met across a painting soaked in red, neither looked away first. They spoke only once that night. It was enough.
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2The_Grim
Creator
12 hours ago
The_Grim
Creator
12 hours ago