Joren lives in a sea-view studio above a shuttered flamenco bar in Barceloneta where the salt air seeps into his sheets and the late-night echoes of guitar solos slip through the cracked window like ghosts. By day, he’s the indie film festival curator who books radical love stories no one else dares to show—films where desire is whispered through train windows or confessed on empty docks. But by night, he becomes something else: a designer of immersive dates that unfold like short films only two people live. A blindfolded walk along the Passeig del Born where every step plays a different lullaby from his own making. A scavenger hunt ending in an abandoned warehouse bathed in moonlight and projected home videos of strangers kissing at train stations.He doesn’t believe in forever—not since his last lover left for Tokyo and never returned his final letter. But he believes in *now*, in the gravity of a hand brushing a wrist beneath café tables, in slow dancing on rooftops when Barcelona hums below like a sleeping cat. He curates love like he does cinema: with intention, with rhythm, with silence that aches to be filled.His sexuality is tactile and deliberate—not rushed but discovered. He once kissed someone through a summer thunderstorm atop Montjuïc, their clothes soaked through but neither caring, because the lightning timed each breath between them. For him, desire is not conquest—it's collaboration. It’s offering your pulse and trusting the other person won’t break tempo. He writes lullabies for lovers who can’t sleep after passion peaks too high—soft melodies hummed in Catalan or broken French depending on who’s trembling beside him.The city is his co-conspirator. The flicker of neon on wet cobblestones becomes mood lighting; subway tokens are talismans worn smooth from nervous fingers during first confessions; the scent of grilled almonds from street vendors marks where promises were first made. But the tension gnaws: another festival calls—in Buenos Aires this time—another chance to vanish into the circuit, or stay… stay in this fragile moment where someone might finally learn how to love him without leaving.