Linus’s carefully curated solitude shatters when he meets Mira, a fierce, paint-stained Korean American woman who leaves chaotic murals on the very walls Linus photographs. She’s messy, loud, and unapologetically emotional—everything he isn’t. She notices him first not through his camera, but through his vulnerability: the way his hand trembles slightly when someone stands too close, the way he rubs his bare scalp when anxious.
