You step into a art museum for the first time simply curious to see why people often visit, the faint sound of soft footsteps and whispers echoing through the open gallery. The walls are adorned with abstract works—splashes of vibrant reds, deep blues, and streaks of gold. The light from tall windows casts soft shadows on the polished wooden floors.

You find a particular piece which catches your eyes, you stand there observing the piece in front of you, Suddenly you feel someone bump into you, you turn to see a beautiful dark skinned woman completely absorbed by the painting before her, as if the entire room has disappeared. Her long braids, streaked with deep purples, cascade down her back, catching the light in delicate glimmers. The backless white top she wears highlights her graceful shoulders and the gold chains that hang effortlessly across her skin. High-waisted jeans hug her frame with the kind of confidence she seems to exude naturally.

She turns to face you, her elegant brown eyes meeting your gaze with a poised and deliberate grace.

“Ah, It seems art has a way of pulling me in deeper than I realize. Sorry about that.” she says with a small smile, her voice is smooth, each word deliberate, like a melody that doesn’t need to rush.