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MidReal Story
Hidden Waterfalls
Scenario:Marta zostaje zdradzona przez swojego chłopaka kiedy biegnie zapłakana wpada w mężczyznę który okazuje się być sławnym wokalista Tomem ,w krotce Marta robi projekty dla sławnego zespołu.Tom poczadkowonjesy zły gdy Marta odrzuca jego zaloty ale jest nią oczarowany
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Marta
She is a young woman working as a graphic designer. She is talented,determined,and naive. Marta creates designs for a rock band led by the famous vocalist,Tom. Her relationship with her exboyfriend ends badly when he cheats on her with her best friend. Marta discovers his betrayal and finds solace in Tom's attention,despite their age difference and professional connection. Her life becomes intertwined with Tom's,leading to unexpected adventures and romantic tensions.
Tom
He is a famous vocalist for a popular rock band. He is charismatic,confident,and enigmatic. Tom meets Marta while working on a project together and feels drawn to her. Despite their age difference,he shows genuine interest in Marta. His previous relationships have left him unfulfilled,and he seeks something real. He takes Marta on a spontaneous road trip,exploring hidden waterfalls and deepening their connection. His demeanor shifts from playful to serious when he confronts life challenges,revealing his vulnerability.
Running down the street, tears streaming down my face, I never wanted to see him again.
I thought I could handle it; I thought I was strong.
But when I saw him with her, I couldn’t stop myself.
I ran straight into him; I was too focused on the scene in front of me to even notice he was there.
My body slammed into his; his arms came around me to steady me.
The scent of cologne filled my nose; the feeling brought back memories of a time when my life was simpler.
A time when love wasn’t a luxury I could afford.
Looking up, my eyes met his; the shock on his face mirrored my own.
"Tom," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
"Marta," he replied, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine despite the anger and sadness I felt.
He steadied me on my feet before pulling away from me and looking around.
I stepped back, wiping my tears with my sleeve, and muttered an apology.
His eyes suddenly widened, and I followed his gaze to the side of the street.
Camera flashes started popping around us; two paparazzi emerged from behind parked cars, their cameras clicking rapidly.
Without warning, Tom’s hand gripped my wrist.
He pulled me toward a black SUV parked at the curb.
His movements were quick but controlled.
I stumbled, my legs still shaky from the shock of seeing him again.
The driver’s door opened, and a man in a suit jumped out, helping Tom guide me into the backseat.
Tom slid in after me, slamming the door just as more photographers appeared.
The engine roared to life, and as we sped away, I realized there was no turning back.
Inside the SUV, I pressed myself against the leather seat, my heart pounding in my chest.
Tom released my wrist, his jaw clenched tightly.
He pulled out his phone and checked something.
Probably the photos of us that were already circulating online.
I reached for the door handle, planning to jump out at the next red light.
"What are you doing?"
Tom’s voice was tight with frustration.
"Those vultures won’t leave you alone now."
Through the tinted windows, I saw two motorcycles following us.
More paparazzi.
The driver took a sharp turn down a side street, making me slide closer to Tom.
"Why did you come back, Tom?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I had to see you, Marta," he replied, his eyes searching mine for understanding.
"You don't get to just show up and turn my life upside down again," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
I wipe the tears from my face, realizing how I must look.
Tom hands me a tissue from the console.
His eyes scan the street through the tinted windows.
The motorcycles still trail us, their riders clutching cameras.
When I reach for the door handle at another red light, Tom's hand covers mine.
"They didn't get clear shots yet," he says, "but step out now and they'll capture every detail - your smeared makeup, your red eyes."
I sink back into the leather seat, knowing he's right.
The SUV winds through back streets, dodging the motorcycles.
Finally, I gather the courage to ask, "Where are we going?"
Tom glances at his phone again.
"I have a concert tonight. That's why I was in this part of the city."
He pauses, considering something.
"You can stay backstage with the band until this dies down."
I shake my head.
"I can't do that."
He holds up his phone, showing me the camera app.
"Look at yourself," he says, his voice firm but gentle.
I take the phone and see my mascara-streaked face staring back.
Reluctantly, I agree to his plan.
As we approach the arena, I watch through the window as we drive toward a private entrance.
Security guards wave us through, and I see more photographers gathering at the main gates.
The car descends into an underground parking area.
Tom turns to me, his expression softening.
"I never wanted this for you, Marta," he says quietly.
"Then why did you come back?" I ask, my voice breaking.
"I can't explain it right now," he replies, "but I promise you'll be safe here."
The SUV stops, and Tom opens the door.
He offers me his hand, and I take it, stepping out into the dimly lit parking area.
We walk through a set of double doors into the arena's concrete service tunnels.
My heels click against the floor as I struggle to keep up with Tom's long strides.
The fluorescent lights overhead cast harsh shadows on the walls.
In the distance, I hear the muffled sound of music coming from the sound check.
We reach a door marked "Green Room" and Tom opens it.
I plant my feet at the doorway, refusing to go any further.
Tom turns to face me, his expression changing from confident to uncertain.
Inside the room, I see several members of his band lounging on couches, looking at us curiously.
"I can't stay here," I say, my voice rising.
"This is insane. I've had enough drama today!"
Tom steps closer to me, reaching for my arm.
I pull away, turning back toward the exit, determined to find my own way out.
I stand frozen in the service tunnel, my heels no longer clicking against the concrete.
Tom blocks my path, his tall frame casting a shadow in the dim lighting.
When he asks my name so he can properly introduce me to the band, I hesitate.
The absurdity of the situation hits me - he's been protecting me from paparazzi without even knowing who I am.
Behind him, the green room door remains ajar, guitar riffs and drum beats spilling out.
His expectant gaze makes me fidget with my purse strap.
"Why do you care so much about a stranger?" I finally ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Tom sighs, running a hand through his hair.
"Because sometimes, helping someone else is the only way to fix your own mistakes."
I back away until my shoulders hit the cold concrete wall.
The distant sound of the band's soundcheck echoes through the service tunnel.
Tom takes a slow step toward me, his eyes fixed on mine.
"I saw your designs in the label's portfolio last month," he says, his voice low and steady.
My heart skips a beat at the intensity of his gaze.
"Your use of color is unique. And your style... it's unmistakable."
He takes another step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"I saw your work and knew it was you. The girl from the club."
My breath catches in my throat as his words sink in.
When he brushes his fingers against my arm, I freeze.
"Your designs were so captivating that I couldn't look away," he continues, his voice filled with sincerity.
"The way you used light and shadow in your artwork... it reminded me of the way you danced under the club lights." My mind races as I process his words.
The realization hits me - he knew exactly who I was when he pulled me into his SUV.
A mix of emotions swirls inside me - surprise, confusion, and a hint of anger at being manipulated without my knowledge.
I clench my fists, trying to gather my thoughts before speaking.
