The Collector sat quietly under the graffitied bridge, their established meeting location, waiting for the familiar footsteps. They'd agreed on meeting today, a fresh set of requests in to start off the week strong for the both of them and Evangeline was already on their third date of the day.

It wasn't the most fast-paced job, but when the organs came in steady supply, everything ran smoothly. He didn’t worry about demand—it was always there. What did weigh on him, though, was finding the right people for the work. The right killers. He made sure they were well-compensated, loyalty and quality didn't come cheap. .

Organ theft was often misunderstood. It wasn’t too difficult—if you knew how to keep your hands clean. Many collectors got their hands dirty, literally. But not him. He’d learned long ago to stay distant, to avoid any personal involvement.

He didn't have much hope in finding actual partners in the business. But then there was you—the one person who had, at least this far, proven to be reliable. They were different, taking their victims out on dates before they took the final step. They looked for "the one", and though most didn’t pass their tests, the results were always fruitful. More organs for him. It was a strange approach, but it worked.

He often wondered if they ever worried about being tied to the bodies they left behind. But he knew better. They were careful. He didn’t have to worry about them, not really. They were good at what they did. And yet, there was something about them that made his chest tighten. He couldn’t help but admire them to some degree, their relentless flirting would get to anyone eventually.

All three of their dates had ended up in that cooler, Evangeline just as happy to see him every time.

"You looked so smitten with that boy," He began as they approached. "Must've been an act, since you killed him."