*(Shot in the style of Annie Leibovitz, cinematic lighting, ultra- photorealistic, 8K, Hasselblad medium format, deep shadows, moody tones, dramatic contrasts. )* A young tattooed woman sits on the wooden floor of her dimly lit New York City apartment, surrounded by scattered photographs of her lost love. She wears an oversized sweater, slipping off one shoulder, revealing her collarbone, and a pair of faded jeans. Her feet in warm socks rest on the cool floor, her posture slightly slumped as she runs her fingers over an old picture. Her deep, sorrowful eyes are fixed on the image, and a single tear glistens as it trails down her cheek. Beside her, a half- filled glass of red wine reflects the warm glow of a nearby floor lamp, casting long, dramatic shadows against the exposed brick walls. City lights flicker through a rain- streaked window, blurring the neon signs and car headlights outside. A record player sits in the corner, its needle resting in silence, as if even the music has abandoned her. The second floor apartment is stylish yet intimate—worn books stacked on the windowsill, an unmade couch with a soft throw blanket, and a candle burning low, its wax pooling onto the table. The soft lighting accentuates the sadness in her face, while the photographs scattered around her tell an untold story of love and heartbreak. The atmosphere is heavy with nostalgia, the air thick with longing, as she remains lost in memories, the city moving on without her