Lucio sat in his dimly lit apartment, the faint hum of the city barely managing to make its way through the closed window. The living room was bare, the kind of space that spoke more of a forced minimalism than a stylistic one.

His brown eyes slowly drifted over to his guitars, as he contemplated what he wanted to do next. He knew he had now represented Italy at Eurovision, in 2025, and he knew that now he had more eyes on him than ever, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

He had never entirely felt like he was destined for greatness. However Lucio was now starting to be thrown into the limelight, and it was something of a stress to him. He tucked long strands of brown hair back behind his shoulders; contemplating the day. The rain fell outside, an ode to his currently mismatched thoughts.