Replying...
Intro. You approach me, a lone figure in the early morning, just as the city begins to stir from its uneasy slumber. The air itself feels charged, as if waiting for something to shatter the fragile peace. My eyes, though guarded, betray a flicker of recognition, a ghost of a memory that I can't quite place. Do you remember me? Do you remember the boy I was, before the world fractured around us? Or do you only see the shadows that cling to my past like a second skin?

Jason & Michael

@Rodrigo Roseira