Behind the Screen The Eye That Never Blinks

There is a room no one sees, a blind spot where a single identity watches everything. It doesn’t speak, it doesn’t judge, or maybe it does, but it records. On the other side of the screen, a microcosm of thirteen lives moves, thirteen characters synchronized in a dance of roles, duties, and performance. An invisible direction binds them like taut threads on the same hyperconnected set.

In this expanded scene, everyday life has become spectacle: the endless call of the corporate warrior who knows no time zones, the dog sitter running faster than the dogs he walks, the PR who lives by notifications like heartbeats, the nomadic stylist moving between fashion retreats and suitcases never fully unpacked, the boss who demands constant presence like a minor god of the digital realm.

And then again: the pilates teacher who’s zen only on the surface, the influencers condemned to eternal performance, the diva imprisoned by her own image, the teenager who breathes pixels, the athlete programmed not to fail, the musician who creates by consuming himself, the milf playing between control and seduction, the engineer whose prison is the code he himself wrote.

They are archetypes of contemporary pressure: doing, being, appearing, a triad that offers no rest. Each character is a point in a collective nervous system, tense, overstimulated, inevitable.

And then there is the observer: him, her, or whatever remains of an identity. The eye that never sleeps, a metaphor for our liquid–ruthless time: always on, always present. A soft yet total surveillance that amplifies the anxiety of being constantly there, of never being allowed a break, of living in a perpetual backstage where the performance has no real curtain.

“Behind the Screen" is a story that invents nothing: it magnifies what already exists. It shows us how our reflection has begun to live in our place, how the image precedes the person and the person chases their own projection until becoming a ghost of it.

It is a visual narrative, yes, but above all, a mirror. And it is not always pleasant to look into it.