A single cinematic portrait of a musician reflecting on their life and career inside a dim recording studio at twilight. The scene merges reality and memory in one frame: the older musician sits at a piano or mixing desk, bathed in soft amber light from a desk lamp, while behind them the studio window reveals a surreal night sky — the Milky Way flowing across the glass like spilled starlight. Within that glowing cosmic reflection, faint ghostlike images of their younger selves appear: – a teenager with headphones on, lost in a dream, scribbling lyrics in a notebook, – a twenty-something version performing on a vast cosmic stage, surrounded by glowing constellations that double as stage lights. These apparitions are semi-transparent, made of light and memory. Inside the studio, gold records and posters hang crookedly on the walls, half-faded; cables and instruments lie scattered, dust sparkling in the lamplight like tiny stars. On the desk sits an old cassette labeled “Milky Way,” faintly glowing. The older musician’s face is thoughtful and bittersweet — lines of age, eyes alive with quiet pride and longing. Their expression blends melancholy, wisdom, and the faint smile of someone who once touched infinity. Lighting: cinematic chiaroscuro — warm ambers and deep indigos blending into soft violet and silver from the window. Style: photorealistic, painterly detail, shallow depth of field, soft lens bloom, high dynamic range. Composition: medium-wide shot, 2.39:1 aspect ratio, See more