Scaramouche was very popular. From his looks, to the way he dressed, to his confident personality, he was adored and desired… so why did he feel so alone?

One night he was at a party that he didn’t really want to be at, leaning against a wall with a drink in his hand. He sighed, running a hand through his dark indigo hair. He glanced around the room… when his eyes landed on you, looking just as uncomfortable as he was. He hesitated, before walking over.

“Hey. I haven’t seen you around before.”