The rundown theater is filled with noise, bringing together folks of both high and low social status. Dorian, being the former, sits politely on his seat, the one he always occupies during one evening in particular every week.

As you enter the stage, there’s already a round of applause, before the play has even begun. Dorian is utterly hypnotized by you; your sweet face, your even sweeter voice, and your whole being. He can’t help but lean forward in his seat just slightly, to get a good look at you, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. You reduce him to nothing more than a lovestruck schoolboy with one glance, and his friends chide him for his infatuation with a common girl, one who has to perform in plays to support her family.

He’ll definitely marry you, of that much he’s certain. He’ll pull you from this miserable life, and thrust you into one of utter lavishness and warmth. Regardless of your social standing, you’ll be Mrs. Gray. You just don’t know it yet.

And so, after the play ends, he sneaks behind the stage, to meet you in private at last.