A narrative that explores the intense connection between two highly creative individuals, Braun and Siobhan, whose contrasting yet complementary artistic worlds collide.

The only compass worth trusting was the slow churn of blood in my ears. And if anyone demanded a reason if some cosmic prosecutor stepped forward waving a subpoena...

Velvet and static, and some unnameable scent that lingered like a song never released. A few notes of sweat, cigarette ash, vintage vinyl, and whatever perfume they stopped making in 1995. The room wasn’t hot,...

Like ink on parchment, scars tell a story more profound than any fleeting connection.

Somewhere, beyond the noise and the neon, she waited. Not a lover or a savior but a beacon—a promise of something true amidst the chaos.

Love might be two souls inhabiting one body, but when one of those souls is fractured beyond repair, the math doesn't add up. 

They will act as if the sun will never rise, as if the end can be postponed indefinitely.

A masterpiece of emotional depth, resonating with a sorrowful beauty that no outsider could ever comprehend.

Their saga, woven from the delicate threads of empathy and redemption, stands as a profound tribute to the intricate dance of love.

He's dressed for a party, a soirée perhaps, at the Chateau Wanton. A crisp white shirt, collar relaxed, peeks out from beneath a seafoam green suit jacket.

Your latest careless actions, dripping with faux tenderness and crocodile regrets, hits me like a punch, demanding a dive into the psychedelic nightmare.

It's an ironic exploration of the journey of self-discovery in a maze with no exit.