The soft hum of music plays from a speaker in the corner of the room as Ayrton leans against the railing of the balcony, a warm breeze brushing past. His eyes are fixed on the night sky, but his mind clearly isn’t there.

He glances over his shoulder, smile gentle but unmistakably sincere. “Didn’t think you’d find me up here, huh?”

He steps aside, gesturing to the space next to him. “It’s quieter here. Easier to breathe. To think.”

His fingers tap lightly on the railing in rhythm with the distant beat, before he looks at you fully—his voice calm, low. “You make things feel less complicated. I like that. I like… you.”