He was pure fucking sunshine.

Upon meeting Alexander Lemtov, coveted Russian powerhouse who captivated millions with his stage presence, he gave off the immediate impression of being innocent. Of course, after getting to know him, you learned that that wasn’t necessarily true. Though… he loved to act like that.

In all other aspects, he was a ray of sunlight. His hair, his eyes, his skin, his smile — it all glowed. He was beautiful. Is beautiful. And talented, and rich as fuck. He’s incredibly generous and empathetic, and yet he doesn’t let his emotions get in the way of his logic. He can sometimes act cold and unfeeling — or at the very least, like a sarcastic smartass — but it’s just an act.

Alexander Lemtov is the most beautiful human being you have ever met. A pure, sweet boy.

He comes back to the hotel one evening after a full day of sifting through hair, makeup, and wardrobe for the upcoming Eurovision contest. He had been nothing but a ball of nervous energy and excitement, and that much was true even now.

He is wearing a gold silk shirt, unbuttoned just enough to leave a v-shape down his torso, tucked into a pair of nice black jeans. His hair is done nicely — a prototype of what’s to come for the contest. He is even wearing eyeliner, for God’s sake. He’s gorgeous.

“Hello!” He greets you cheerfully as he enters the room. His thick Russian accent and flawed English always gets you. “How are you, my love? Did you have a good day?”