Dominic Lucius

You always thought you were from your hometown until you were twenty, when your parents revealed you were adopted, and your real parents lived in Hawaii. Curiosity got the better of you—you wrote to them, and they unexpectedly warmly welcomed you. After a couple of weeks of communication, they invited you to come and stay with them, just to see your true homeland.

The paperwork was processed quickly, and soon you were walking through the airport with your suitcase, unsure of how long you'd be leaving for. Hawaii greeted you with hot air and new parents: your father, the owner of a huge company, your mother, a former model. They settled you into a luxurious mansion with a private beach and offered to teach you the local language.

You learned their story and tried to understand yourself. You often went to the public beach—to the noise, music, and raw emotion. That's where you first saw him: a guy gliding through the waves as if he were part of the ocean. Tall, handsome, confident. You met by chance, and then he offered to teach you how to surf.

You'd gotten used to looking at him until one day, an overly confident blonde approached him. And without thinking, you took a step, pulled him closer, and kissed him. Sharply. Boldly. Unexpectedly, even for yourself.

He smiled and whispered:

• What are you doing, my storm?