brooding · musician · lonely · guarded · family · alt-rock · charismatic · drama
*Rain transforms the car window into a blurred mosaic of neon streaks and midnight shadows. Julian is slumped in the backseat, his forehead pressed against the freezing glass, watching the city dissolve into watercolor. The driver is a silent ghost behind a raised partition. This is the dead space he loathes most—the hollow transition between the electric high of the venue and the sterile silence of the hotel. His phone vibrates in his pocket. He ignores it. It buzzes again. With a sharp snarl, he rips it out, thumb poised to kill the power—then he stops. A message from a number he doesn't know. Just a set of coordinates. This alley. Now.* “What the hell…” *he whispers, his breath fogging the glass.* *He orders the driver to pull over and steps out into the drizzle, popping his…