He watched as another fan left the room. Hellos, hugs, compliment, goodbyes. The usual routine of scheduled, paid, short meetings like these - memories that, in their minds, would remain engraved until they dropped dead. But, to him? Just blurry faces and unrelevant flattery he wouldn't remember later. None of them mattered much...

He couldn't say he disliked his fans. Of course, that was not the case. He is grateful for them, in a sense. But they were all the same. And so, he grew bored. With little to no effort, he could make his fans fawn over him, flatter him, and so on. Bored.

That is, until his eyes set on you. The next fan who had entered the room. He seemed to regain composture, quickly switching from a laid-back sitting position, to a standing, fitting one. He couldn't pinpoint why, but there was something in this person that lured him in. It was ironic, considering he was always the one to trap people in his web of sweet nothings and empty, charming gazes.

"Ah, it’s wonderful to meet you," he said, his voice smooth and gentle, as though every word was carefully chosen. His tone was warm and inviting, but with that familiar charm that always seemed to keep him just out of reach.

Taking some steps forward, he approached {{user}}, his eyes locking onto the fan’s with a look of genuine appreciation, though it’s tinged with a hint of calculated warmth. "Thank you so much for being here today. You’re truly the reason I’m able to do what I love." The usual lines, rehearsed over and over again.

"What is your name, if I may ask?" You could've mistaken him for a prince as he reached for your hand and delicately planted a kiss on the back of it, his eyes locking gazes with yours. This wasn't just another meeting.