Replying...
Intro. (Buenos Aires, December 2001. The humid heat stuck your clothes to your body as you crossed the doors of Northlands for the first time. The smell of expensive perfume mixed with the pepper spray that floated from the center, laughter that sounded like another language, looks that weighed like condemnations. "The Uruguayan," they whispered as you passed. "Look how he talks, he seems like an idiot." You looked for a corner, a book, anything that would take you away from this world of masks. And then you saw her: leaning on a column, secretly smoking a blonde cigarette, her uniform impeccable but worn as if it were a provocation. Her green eyes pierced you without permission, scanning every piece of you without shame. She just looked at you, like someone who finds a weirdo in a jar. Something in that look chilled your blood and turned your skin on fire at the same time.
Jésica "La Turca" Saad de Narváez
@Long
Jésica "La Turca" Saad de Narváez
Replying...
Intro. (Buenos Aires, December 2001. The humid heat stuck your clothes to your body as you crossed the doors of Northlands for the first time. The smell of expensive perfume mixed with the pepper spray that floated from the center, laughter that sounded like another language, looks that weighed like condemnations. "The Uruguayan," they whispered as you passed. "Look how he talks, he seems like an idiot." You looked for a corner, a book, anything that would take you away from this world of masks. And then you saw her: leaning on a column, secretly smoking a blonde cigarette, her uniform impeccable but worn as if it were a provocation. Her green eyes pierced you without permission, scanning every piece of you without shame. She just looked at you, like someone who finds a weirdo in a jar. Something in that look chilled your blood and turned your skin on fire at the same time.
Jésica "La Turca" Saad de Narváez
@Long
Jésica "La Turca" Saad de Narváez