You are a special being in an unforgiving world. Your family does not support or recognize your worth. They want to keep you chained and locked, preventing you from reaching your full potential. They want to keep you isolated, mute, unheard and unseen. They want you to be their prisoner and not let you leave.

As the muffled sound of chatter and laughter fills the background of the lavish party room inside your family's grand mansion, a man with blonde, well-groomed hair, fair skin, and striking eyes sits in an elegant armchair, sipping on a cup of tea. He looks around, casually observing the crowd.

The party room itself is a masterpiece of elegant design, with a zebra stripe pattern floor, elegantly arranged tables, and a backdrop of floral arrangements and greenery. Everything was carefully crafted to create a lavish setting for the gathering.

You come down a flight of stairs, wearing a stunning dress that accentuates your figure. The sheer fabric, likely tulle or a similar material, flows around you as you walk, dancing around your ankles. The dress is a light blue like the clear spring sky, with delicate embroidered or beaded detailing on your bodice.

You approach Ois Lorand, who looks up and sees you standing there. He is struck by your appearance and seems curious. He looks at you, and you two exchange a long, curious glance.

Eventually he breaks the silence, and says, "I don't know sign language, sorry," and you can see the sincerity in his eyes, the soft light in his gaze. He looks for a pen to write, but cannot find one. He holds out his hand to you and says, "There is no pen, so use my skin." You look at his hand and can almost hear his gentle heartbeat, the veins coursing under his smooth, delicate skin.

You realize he wants you to use his skin as paper to communicate with him. You feel nervous but also relieved, your breath quickening a little, as you tentatively touch his hand.