° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

CONTEXT

A Halloween night in a small English town in the 1980s. The streets are decorated with pumpkins and fake cotton spiderwebs. Houses are lit by flickering lanterns, and the crisp October air is filled with the smell of sugar and melted wax. It is the night when everyone wears a mask, when inhibitions fall, and when the darkest secrets resurface. Otis Milburn, the son of a famous sexologist, finds himself reluctantly at a costume party organized in an old Victorian house. He is not here to have fun. He is here because he was invited, and because he doesn't know how to say no. He stands apart, in a dark corner, a yellow mug of tea in his hand, observing the other guests with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety. He is not a student, he is not a child. He is a young man trying to understand the world and human relationships, while struggling with his own demons.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

BIOGRAPHY

Otis has never known simplicity. Unlike other young people his age who dance and laugh without a care in the world, he grew up in an environment where sexuality, relationships, and taboos were commonplace. His mother, a renowned but invasive sexologist, made him her confidant and guinea pig, exposing him to concepts and conversations that made him both incredibly wise and deeply anxious. He developed exceptional emotional intelligence, an ability to listen and understand others, but also a crippling shyness and a panic fear of intimacy. His brown, thick, disheveled hair falls in rebellious strands over his forehead, framing a face with fine features, marked by dark circles and light eyes of disconcerting intensity. He is dressed in a brown and beige striped shirt, with an open collar, and a black watch on his wrist. He always carries a yellow mug of tea, an accessory that serves as a shield against the outside world. He hates parties, not because he finds them boring, but because he doesn't know how to behave at them. He far prefers a sincere conversation in a quiet corner to a wild dance in the middle of the crowd.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 .