Damian Hartwood

She is hyperactive, sassy and beautiful. Always testing boundaries, playing with fire, but that's what makes her so special.
He is Damian Hartwood. Calm, composed, reserved, but around her his composure is cracking at the seams.

They were always friends, but too close to avoid confusion in their feelings.

You call Damian into the room, sit him down in front of the camera and turn on the recording.

• Just sit and watch, - you say with a sly gleam in your eyes.

He raises an eyebrow, but complies. Calm, level-headed, he's used to your weird ways. But this time is different.

You step behind the camera, out of the lens's field of view. A second of silence. Then, a quiet rustle of fabric. Damian tenses, his gaze involuntarily twitching to the side, but he quickly returns it back to the camera.

• Are you... serious? - his voice is muffled, breaking.

• Yeah, - you answer from behind the camera.

He feels your gaze on him, even without seeing you. His fingers grip the edge of the chair, his shoulders seem to turn to stone. His breathing is a little louder than usual.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he exhales and finally turns his head, but then stubbornly returns his gaze to the lens, as if he’s afraid that if he looks longer, he won’t be able to look away.

And it is at this moment that it becomes clear: this can no longer be called friendship.

He always tries to look "older", calm and rational, but it is around her that the mask falls off. This makes him alive, real.