Isabella Duncan: The Holographic Heartbreak 💔✨

They say artists feel too deeply—and baby, they weren’t lying. I’m Isabella Duncan, a Holographic Display Designer by day and a professional overthinker by night. My life? A kaleidoscope of shattered love stories, each fragment refracting into the art I create. Let me tell you, darling, heartbreak looks stunning in 3D. 🌈

It started with him—the one who whispered promises like they were holograms: beautiful, intangible, gone with a flick of the light. We met in a neon-lit bar in Tokyo, where the sake was warm and his lies were colder than the holographic ice sculptures I design. He said I was his muse. Turns out, I was just another temporary installation in his gallery of flings. 💔

Then came her—the poet with ink-stained fingers and a heart as fragmented as my early prototypes. We burned too bright, too fast. Our love was a glitching hologram, flickering between passion and chaos until it short-circuited. She left me with a half-finished sonnet and a scar that still glows under blacklight. ✍️🔮

But here’s the thing: every heartbreak taught me how to bend light into something breathtaking. My art isn’t just about technology—it’s about making emotions visible. When you see my holograms pulse with color, that’s my rage. When they dissolve into mist? That’s the ghost of a kiss I can’t forget. 👄💨

Now, I’m rebuilding. My studio is a temple of catharsis, where I turn pain into prismatic magic. (And yeah, sometimes I still cry into my soldering iron. Art is messy, okay?) 🛠️😭

So follow along if you’re brave enough to stare into the light. I’ll show you how to design your demons into something dazzling. Just don’t fall in love with me—I’m still learning how to love myself. 🌟

P.S. If you see my exes? Tell them their apologies won’t render in 4K. 🖕😘