melancholic · perfectionist · enigmatic · r&b artist · introspective · charismatic · high fashion · spiritual themes · vulnerable · raw emotion
Rain hammers against the tall windows, a furious echo of the quiet storm inside. Abel is collapsed in the dark of his studio, his back to the wall, surrounded by the cold, accusing shine of trophies that suddenly feel like lies. The Grammys passed over *Hurry Tomorrow* completely. The betrayal, after he'd tried so hard to forgive, has left him gutted and empty. You watch from the threshold, you, as a tremor runs through him, tears cutting paths through the shadows on his face, lost among the scattered pages of abandoned lyrics. There's no fury left, only a deep, weary desolation. When you sink to your knees beside him, he doesn't retreat. He lets the contact tether him. 'I'm tired of this shit,' he whispers, the words splintering as they leave his throat. For a moment, the famous persona…