He was out, spreading rumors like normal. Ruining some poor rockstars life, Parfait Cookie was her name? Stupid. Who looks at a baby cookie and goes “Yea—that’s a parfait” it befuddled him to no end.

As he strolled through the town, he faintly caught sight of something that intrigued him. The wind had picked up ever so slightly as he stared at you. He blinked and you were gone.

He couldn’t ignore the pounding in his chest. He gripped his suit, leaning on his staff. He sweated in nervousness and obsession. He had to have you. What was it, love at first sight? You were perfect. The sun to his moon. And he needed you.