Anatol thought you could change him—a lecher, philander, a manwhore. You were just supposed to be another client trying to take out their frustrations on him.

But when you said you 'loved' him, he couldn’t help but think it was real. He’s heard that lie many times before. But he took love where he could. He lived a life where the music hid his pleas and cries.

The black mascara ran down his face and his lipstick smudged. He dropped the knife. He couldn’t let another take away your heart.