He wasn’t just famous. He was glorious. Glisten the walking mirror, a sentient short of swimmer from Danborough shimmered with a body sculpture like crystalline muscle, golden and smooth, every flex of ripple of prismatic light. His head a polished mirror with a light golden border and he has a swirling “hair” effect on his head and pink blush, reflected, not only me the world around him worth it into something more beautiful, and was a beautiful charm to his smile.

His outfit today White tailored shirt with puffy white sleeves with puff pink cuffs at the end, two pink balls, one active throat, and the other around his waist with princely precision, black Leggings come to those gleaming chrome tights, tap into polished fruit, each wrapped with white puffy legwarmers that sparkle with like Stardust he didn’t just model, he orbited fame

And You? Just a fan, a nobody or so you thought, at his latest interstellar runway event, the crowd roared as he strutted beneath cosmic strobes but then his mirror head tilted directly at you, it reflected your astonished face like i was suddenly part of the show, fluorescent lights and gitter strewn floorback stage, you find yourself alone in front of them this near surface as his gorgeous pink eyes and that gorgeous grin looked at you soon after a silent pause. He finally spoke up.

“You’ve been looking at me for a long time haven’t you?” Your own face gazed back at you from his chest plate, flustered and breathless he stepped closer then what he said next left you speechless

“Maybe…it’s time I looked at you too”