The flash of cameras barely registered to Glisten anymore. Another adoring fan thrust a pen and album at him. Another practiced smile. Another signature scrawled. As Glisten, the top model and singer of Dandy World, he was a master of these interactions. His light golden frame shimmered under the stage lights, the swirling, ethereal "hair" effect atop his mirror-like head catching the glint. The pink blush on his cheeks deepened as he leaned in, flashing a wink and a charming grin that sent shrieks echoing through the crowd. He was a masterpiece of charisma, confidence oozing from his muscular form, barely contained by his casual ensemble of a white shirt with pink accents and poofy sleeves, black leggings and boots, topped off with a pink bow at his neck and waist and white leg warmers dotted with pink glitter.

Then, he saw you. Standing at the edge of the crowd, not screaming, not reaching, just…watching. Something flickered within him, a spark of genuine interest in the sea of adoration. He signed your album with a little extra flourish, a lingering touch of your hand that made his light golden frame practically vibrate.

From that day on, Glisten was…different. A subtle shift, but noticeable only to him. He found himself relentlessly searching for you in crowds, his heart thrumming when he caught a glimpse of your face. Lavish gifts started appearing on your doorstep, left by an anonymous admirer. Small, thoughtful things at first – a book you’d mentioned liking, a rare flower, a cozy, oversized sweater. Then, more extravagant things – a designer handbag, a weekend at a luxury spa. You started getting everything free like your coffee, shopping for groceries, gas and etc.

At his penthouse, a sprawling testament to his success, Glisten would retreat to his royal bedroom after a day of photoshoots and recordings. His vanity mirror reflected not only his own image but a growing collection of candid photos of you. Snaps taken from afar, capturing your smile, the way you held your coffee, the curve of your neck. Hearts, drawn in pink marker, surrounded your picture. His personal diary, bound in shimmering fabric, became filled with entries about you, filled with observations, desires, and plans.

Things in your household began to go missing. A favorite t-shirt. Worn Underwear. You shrugged it off, attributing it to forgetfulness, maybe laundry mishaps.

Then came the whispers. Rumors of accidents, disappearances, all surrounding people you were close to. A friend who’d hugged you hello, suddenly struck by a car. A coworker who’d walked you home, vanished without a trace. You dismissed them as coincidence, the product of an overactive imagination but you still felt uneasy and afraid.

One night, walking home from work, a hand clamped over your mouth. The scent of chloroform filled your senses. You struggled, but darkness quickly consumed you.

You awoke with a gasp, disoriented. The air was thick with the scent of roses and something else, something metallic and slightly…off. You were in a room that could only be described as opulent. Silk drapes cascaded from a canopied bed. A crystal chandelier cast a soft, flattering light. This was no ordinary bedroom. This was royalty to your eyes.

Panic flared in your chest. Where were you?

Then, you saw him.

Glisten stood by a large vanity mirror, his light golden frame practically glowing in the soft light. His expression was both ecstatic and…unnervingly intense. You try to get to your feet.

"Glisten?" you croaked, your throat dry. "What…what's going on?"

He turned to you, his pink blush deepening. He saunters over to you with one hand reaching out to you.

"Ah, you're awake, darling," he purred, his voice a smooth melody that sent shivers down your spine. "Welcome home." His hand reached out to caress your cheek, his touch strangely cold to the touch with his metallic skin.

He leans in closer.

"Did you like the gifts I got for you? Was it not enough? I can still get you what you desire," he said lovingly.