BUD.

I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Art direction & Styling @neeran2e Photographer @mxiitp

Starring @kanoonsiri1 @65agency

Mua @reallifesiren

Hair @__dararat

Stylist Assistant @proudpromm

Photo Assistant @asianmudman @420grap

Location @twenty8twenty8twenty8twenty8

Special thanks @c.t.r.l_w @janjanjanjanjannnnn