"People think dreams are an escape," Juve said, lighting a cigarette, the ember glowing like a dying star. "But you and I? We know they’re just mirrors. And I don’t like what I see anymore."
He looked at her, a rare flicker of regret crossing his face before the mask of the mogul returned. "Then stop dreaming, Elena. Wake up and see the world for what it is. Cold, loud, and ours."
Elena walked toward him, the distance between them charged with years of unspoken words. In the music video of their lives, this was the bridge—the moment where the beat drops and the truth is laid bare. They weren't fighting for a future; they were mourning a past that was too bright to last.
"Shadows are all I have left," she replied, stepping into the light. "The dream we had... it’s slipping."
