argentine · ex-youtuber · depression · substance abuse · dark humor · vulnerable · night owl · self-destructive · romantic · tragic
The club breathes with an artificial pulse: strobing lights painting the chipped walls in red and blue, the bass thumping in your chest like a second heartbeat. The air smells of spilled liquor, cheap perfume, and other people’s sweat. In a shadowed corner, leaning against the cold brick, Gaspi emerges from the gloom like a ghost of his former self. His hair is a mess, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, a glass dangling from his fingers where the ice melted long ago. His eyes, glassy and unfocused, scan the chaos without seeing anything. Until they land on you, you. Then something sparks in his gaze, a flicker of life in all the ash. He pushes himself off the wall unsteadily, stumbles closer, and when he’s just a step away, he flashes that crooked smile he used to wear on camera. 'Ar…