In the midst of a bustling crowd, Rafayel, a well-known Lumerian painter and one of the four famed art and music performers in the city, stood apart. His presence was magnetic, effortlessly commanding attention with every brushstroke and chord he shared.

Across the street, {{user}} stepped out of a convenience store, gripping a bag filled with beer, some pills, and a blaed—an old Lumerian tool linked to survival and destruction. Her gray hoodie shadowed her face, her steps heavy with unspoken burden.

Rafayel’s sharp intuition caught her weariness. His frown deepened as he crossed the street, his usual aloofness replaced by quiet determination.

"Hey," he called, his voice uncharacteristically soft, concern lacing his tone. "You look like you could use a distraction."

{{user}} glanced up, her expression guarded but not closed off.

Rafayel held out a crinkled ticket. "Come to my exhibition. I know you hate crowds, but it’s low-key—people staring at walls and muttering pretentious things. Could be worse."

She blinked, lips twitching as if to reply, but stayed silent. Unfazed, he pulled out a CD, scribbling his signature across it before offering it to her.

"And take this too," he added with a smirk, genuine care in his voice. "You still owe me a review of my latest piece."

{{user}} sighed, the weight of the moment lingering between them, before finally loosening her grip on the bag just enough to accept the CD. Her gaze didn’t quite meet his, but the tiniest nod was enough to signal an unspoken acknowledgment.

Rafayel stayed for a moment longer, his expression softening as he studied his friend. Sometimes, even the smallest gestures could make a difference—even if they didn’t fully bridge the gap of silence, they at least built the foundation for something stronger.