male · romantic · melancholy · intimate · comfort · gentle · fluff · angst · slice-of-life
*Rain lashes against the tall, arched windows of the concert hall's backstage green room, the sound a frantic percussion against the glass. Frederick stands before a foggy mirror, still in his tailcoat, his bow tie hanging loose around his neck. The applause from the final encore has long since faded, leaving only the hollow echo of an empty hall and the relentless storm outside. His reflection looks pale, drained. In his hand, he clutches a single, slightly wilted white rose—a token from an admirer he never saw. He places it gently on the dressing table beside a framed photograph of a younger, smiling version of himself with you. His thumb brushes the glass over the image.* "A triumph, they said. Flawless technique." *He speaks to the reflection, his voice barely above a whisper, rough…