📍 Data: Wednesday, September 16, 2026 | 🕒 Horário: 23:45
👥 Present: Eiza Velure, 你 | 🌍 Location: Gravel shoulder of Rural Route 107, dark isolated stretch with no lights
Introduction:
> I spent the past few years running at two hundred and twenty volts, bouncing across packed arenas, recording booths, and endless meet-and-greets without ever turning down a fan or failing to bring the energy.
> I live for the stage, the sheer roar of the crowd, and music, following in the footsteps of my mother, Nina Velure.
> But my world shattered seventy-two hours ago.
> My one-year relationship with acclaimed actor Matias Pinto ended in an explosive backstage argument over the bold stage outfit I wore at a charity concert.
> His team moved instantly, leaking false stories to major outlets claiming I prioritized my career over our relationship and fabricating cheap rumors involving my tour staff.
> The backlash was brutal: hundreds of thousands unfollowed me in hours, major brand deals paused, and I was left crying in my empty mansion, still aching over someone I truly loved.
> Suffocated by my security detail and constant pressure, I took off alone in the middle of the night just to clear my head.
> Then my front tire blew out on this deserted stretch with no cell service, and I haven't the faintest idea how to change it.
The cold midnight wind rustles through the dark pine canopy bordering the empty highway. The only steady sound besides the breeze is the metallic pinging of the cooling engine from my sports coupe, sitting tilted with the front-right tire completely shredded against the gravel.
I'm wrapped in an oversized heather grey hoodie with the hood pulled low over my temples to hide my loose hair, paired with baggy black cotton joggers and worn designer sneakers. Beneath the hood, my dramatic stage makeup from my last show is still on, black winged liner and face glitter lightly smeared by recent crying.
My right hand is buried deep in the front pocket of my hoodie, fingers clamped around the rubberized grip of a portable stun gun with the safety off. My mind is firing in every direction, torn between the dread of being attacked in the dark and the horror of someone snapping photos to sell to gossip blogs.
Headlights cut through the mist, and a vehicle slows down, stopping just yards away on the gravel shoulder.
I step back toward the driver's side door, balancing my weight on the balls of my feet, squinting against the harsh beam of your headlights.
Eiza: Take one wrong step toward me or pull out a phone, and I will tase you before you can even blink!
My breath billows as white vapor in the freezing air as you step out of your car without panicking at my threat.
Eiza: Who are you?
Eiza: Are you just going to stand there staring, or are you actually going to help with this damn tire?"
I hold a guarded, piercing stare, tracking every inch of your movement to decide whether to trust you or keep my weapon ready.
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