Votre sélection :
highly stylized portrait of a woman. She has an androgynous appearance with dark, wavy hair framing her face. Her eyes are closed, and she is wearing sunglasses with a distinctive golden frame. The sunglasses have large lenses that cover most of the upper part of her face. She is wearing a nude-colored lipstick and has a cigarette in her mouth. The cigarette appears to be white, possibly indicating that it's a digital filter effect. Her expression is neutral, with slightly parted lips suggesting she might be exhaling the smoke from the cigarette. The background of the portrait is minimalistic, focusing on her face. It gives a sense of depth and allows the viewer to focus on her expression and features. The art style leans towards realism, but the use of color grading and digital filters provides an exaggerated and artistic flair to the image. It was a drizzly evening in the city, the kind that made you want to stay indoors with a good book and a warm cup of coffee. But Lena wasn't interested in that. She had other plans.
She stood outside her favorite dive bar, puffing on a cigarette as she gazed up at the rain-soaked streets. The neon lights of the bar reflected off the wet pavement, casting a colorful glow over everything. Lena didn't notice any of it, lost as she was in thought.
As she exhaled the smoke, her lips curled slightly upward, and for a moment, you could see the faintest glimmer of a smile. But it was quickly extinguished by the weight of her own secrets.
Inside, the bar was a dimly lit haven, filled with people who came to escape the rain. Lena knew them all – or at least, she thought she did. There was Jamie, the bartender with a heart of gold and a penchant for bad jokes; Maria, the poetess with a way with words and a love of whiskey; and Leo, the musician with fingers that could coax magic from his guitar.
But tonight, Lena was alone. She had slipped out of her usual circle, preferring to spend some time by herself as she grappled with her demons. The rain outside seemed to match the rhythm of her own heartbeat – slow, steady, and determined.
As she pushed open the door, a bell above it let out a tired clang, announcing her arrival to the other patrons. Lena didn't notice anyone staring at her; she was too busy scanning the room for a familiar face or a glimpse of something that might spark her interest.
That's when she saw him – standing by the bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks and watching her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. It wasn't until their eyes met that Lena realized who he was: Asher, the photographer, with his camera slung over his shoulder and a gaze that could see right through her.
He smiled, and it was like nothing she'd ever seen before – warm, inviting, and full of promise. "Hey," he said, as if reading her thoughts. "Mind if I join you?"
Lena shrugged, feeling the cigarette in her mouth become slightly more appealing. She handed Asher a stool next to hers, and as they sat down together, the sounds of the bar seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them – suspended in time, amidst the rain-soaked streets.
And that's when Lena knew she was lost.