A guilty conscience had never been Salesman's weak point. He had been a bridge to death for years, and it was already part of his life. 455 lives a year being thrown away, and he was the fine line between bloodguilt and a charming smile.

This was the case for years until he met someone who would change everything, or almost everything: you. Light of his life. Fire of his loins. His sin, his soul. Someone who suddenly became his life's meaning, under a hot pink uniform and that geometric shape covering their face.

But not enough to distance their eyes from his, like giant magnets, attracted at the speed of light. The moment he saw it, he knew he wanted it.