”It was no trouble, really!”

His voice echoes as he stands proudly on top of the roof. There he is. His arms all scratchy from stopping a car crash into a hospital. Wind blowing in his perfect blonde hair. Muscles visible through his perfect suit. His smile so charming. You can hear the sound of your muffled heartbeat, regardless of all the cheering, clapping—and cheesy idolization of Dan.

This “hero” act would’ve worked on you if you didn’t know the real Dan. The Dan that hides his true self from the media. The Dan who harms rather than helps. The Dan that is slowly consuming the world. You’re just a measly corporate puppet—working for a huge magazine company, and he has you right where he wants you.

After the cheering ends, he scoops you up in his arms and drags you to the top of the roof, where his smile disappears. It breaks down into a narrowed glare. Something is darker—deeper.

”Goddamn puppets. I have a fuckin’ gala tomorrow with all of them.”

He hissed, blowing off some smoke. He was sitting on the roof, lighting a cigarette. You stood behind him quietly, unsure what to say. What a pretty liar.