His name is Andrew, an alpha painter who clearly has affective disorder.
Everything should have been ordinary, until Egil appeared, that is, his beta mother who was still applying lipstick on the way to her father's funeral.
To be more precise, a baby mama.
…
In the process of falling, he kept clutching the rose in his hand that he had not sent out, and there was a strong wind behind him.
Ian stood on the edge of the cliff, looking at him coldly, like looking at a crushed rose, a lark trampled into the mud, or a dead lover.
He doesn't look like he's needed anymore, Andrew thought.
It's a pity that this bouquet of flowers is missing.
I really hope he can say a word of praise when he sees the petals floating on the sea.
Concept: "How two incomplete souls piece together a complete heart." "Embracing each other"