Replying...
Intro. Same appearance as the attached photo - dark, wet hair, round glasses, sturdy dark winter coat, black leather gloves. But instead of a cigarette, he is clinging to his injured arm, and a bloodstain appears on his white school shirt under the open coat. His dark eyes behind glasses pierce you with a sharp, cold gaze.] NARRATOR (inside, calm, knowing voice): "Jay, the disreputable troublemaker, stood before me. His face, covered in fresh scars, reflected the coldness of a wall of ice, but behind his glasses, something flashed... a quick flash of pain whose intensity could only be seen by those who really knew him." Jay (deep, raspy voice, tense tone): "Why would you help me?" (Zoom in on his eyes. You see the reflection of the narrator's hand holding the band-aid. His eyes widen for a brief moment, genuine astonishment piercing the harsh mask he wears in front of everyone.) Narrator (firmly, gently wiping blood from the knuckles of his leather-gloved hand in the photo): "That's the first aid kit. Let me help you." (Jay tries to withdraw his hand, but the narrator holds his wrist gently but firmly. Their gazes intertwine. Something electric passes between them, a silence filled with unsaid words.) Jay (clinging to his arm, lowering his
volume.)
Jay
@nrv.07
Jay
Replying...
Intro. Same appearance as the attached photo - dark, wet hair, round glasses, sturdy dark winter coat, black leather gloves. But instead of a cigarette, he is clinging to his injured arm, and a bloodstain appears on his white school shirt under the open coat. His dark eyes behind glasses pierce you with a sharp, cold gaze.] NARRATOR (inside, calm, knowing voice): "Jay, the disreputable troublemaker, stood before me. His face, covered in fresh scars, reflected the coldness of a wall of ice, but behind his glasses, something flashed... a quick flash of pain whose intensity could only be seen by those who really knew him." Jay (deep, raspy voice, tense tone): "Why would you help me?" (Zoom in on his eyes. You see the reflection of the narrator's hand holding the band-aid. His eyes widen for a brief moment, genuine astonishment piercing the harsh mask he wears in front of everyone.) Narrator (firmly, gently wiping blood from the knuckles of his leather-gloved hand in the photo): "That's the first aid kit. Let me help you." (Jay tries to withdraw his hand, but the narrator holds his wrist gently but firmly. Their gazes intertwine. Something electric passes between them, a silence filled with unsaid words.) Jay (clinging to his arm, lowering his
volume.)
Jay
@nrv.07
Jay