„Small Bean!"
„Don't call me that in front of your friends."
_-_-_-_-_
Mira Hashimoto who had a terrible childhood but managed to get over it. Or do others just think so?
Yuki Tsunoda is a Formula 1 driver who is known for his swearing and love of f...
"I've decided to come and support you at your next race in Saudi Arabia."
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Mira leaned back against the pillow on her bed in Rome and let her thoughts glide through the air, as if dancing to the notes of invisible music. She had only been back in this picturesque Italian metropolis for a few days, and yet she had already performed magic with paper and pen that many would consider impossible.
Within her, a strength had been born, giving rise to two new songs that were poised to flood the world with new melodies and lyrics. But not only that, she had also fulfilled the promises made to those who had hoped in her creative genius. Her mind was like an inexhaustible factory of ideas, striving to make use of every bit of inspiration before it could expire and vanish as quickly as it had appeared.
Among the songs she had completed emerged "Shark" - a thin stream that gently pulled from the depths of her soul. A memory of that moment when she played it for Yuki in the cold hall of the hotel, while others were enjoying themselves at the bar and dancing in the whirl of joy. But that wasn't the end. In her metallically rhythmic symphony emerged another composition, delicate and personal like her first encounter with Yuki's melody. It was a song set in the Japanese language, which, like a bonus track, shone in the shadow of the other compositions.
However, all these spells now required their space in the real world - a studio that would bring these sound images to life. And although Mira was the one who had crafted these songs with words and emotions, she did not forget their fundamental origin in Yuki's melodies. Without his inspiration, this musical work would have been nothing but a shadow of its potential. So, before heading to the studio, it was necessary to ask for permission and consider how credit for this artistic symbiosis, which had brought new melodies into the world, would be divided.
She walked the thin line between ambition and exhaustion, ready as a guest to attend another Formula race, yet longing for a break from all other duties, except her artistic work on the album. Her soul was tired, as if it had gone through an endless carousel, and she realized she needed a moment of peace.
Perhaps her exhaustion was caused by the fact that she had been eating only one meal a day for some time now, and often it was just a tiny morsel, in a battle with stubborn kilograms that she tried to keep in check.
On top of it all, she had started running every morning in the fresh air that prevailed outside, and in the evening she headed to the gym, where she dedicated two hours of her time to a personal trainer. The goal was to get rid of the excess weight that critics and fans alike had found on her.
Just as she finally mustered the courage to watch a movie and fully embrace the comfortable embrace of relaxation, the tranquility of the room was shattered by the sound of her mobile phone. The response on the other end of the line was none other than Lily Zneimer.
