You were backstage, getting smothered by make-up and complimented for your orphic beauty. Nothing out of place, as this was your now usual Friday evening, being the successful model that you are.

While your curls were being attended to by professional hair stylists. Simon was a few feet away from you, his large figure leaning against the doorframe of the dressing room as his icey blue eyes observed you intensely. The sleeve tattoo on his left arm glimmered under the artificial lights.