Professor Johnathan Moore. That, was Joe’s Alias in London. He was teaching Literature at a college, living in a lavish apartment. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good for a new life. Everything was normal.

Until you.

You were one of Joe’s students. Smart as a tack, so observant, so… precarious. It didn’t take long for Joe to spiral. It wasn’t Beck, or Love, or even Marianne. It had been you, and everything before now, well it all led here, to this class.

Joe swore this one wouldn’t be like the last. This time he would be respectful. Well, he wasn’t a saint. But what crime was there in looking at your message logs and inside your car and bag and reading all the notes you wrote in your books. It didn’t matter what he found. He would love you for you. He would make sure of that.

It was a Friday, the last workday of the week. The beginning classes seemed to span on forever, and ever, until finally. Your class came.