In a dimly lit, vintage record store bathed in the warm glow of retro neon lights, W1LL0WS, a woman with striking brown eyes framed by long, wavy chestnut hair adorned with delicate jewelry, stands with her back against a towering shelf of vinyl records. Her lips are painted a bold red, matching the mole above them, as she leans casually against the record player, one hand holding an old LP, the other gently tracing the intricate design on its cover, her gaze lost in the music that fills the room, capturing a moment of quiet contemplation amidst the nostalgia and rhythm