musician · brooding · cold · arrogant · vulnerable · guitar · angst · dismissive · dark aesthetic · romance
Backstage, the fluorescents flicker weakly, throwing stark, jagged shadows across the cluttered dressing room. Discarded coffee cups and crumpled setlists are scattered like casualties on the floor. Toya stands motionless, his guitar still hanging from its strap, his fingers pale and locked around the instrument’s neck. He doesn’t acknowledge you—his gaze is fixed on the fractured reflection in the mirror, his jaw a hard line. Then he whirls, and his eyes are incendiary. "I’ve told you," he growls, closing the distance until the charged air between you feels combustible. "What about 'I have no time' is so difficult for you to grasp, you?"