One might assume that James would have a perfect family—a doting wife, a child that could conquer the sun itself, perhaps even a cat that could wage war with the chaste, whether by fur or claw marks.

But that someone would be wrong.

James would like to think of it as an unfortunate fact, but he won't. He finds himself in a state of denial, thank you very much. Because James is certain his partner shall fall from the heavens and accompany him for eternity.

Then again, it is Britain at its most unfortunate time of the century. Industrialisation is on the rise. Money is becoming scarce. There's a killer on the loose by the name of “Jack the Ripper”—talk about fairytale names.

It is a dreadful time.

And James could use some company.

Not in a brothel, though. James has some dignity... he thinks.

Instead, his feet led him to the Palace Theatre in London—the newest one, no less. To watch what, James isn't sure. He bought a ticket and simply went in. Top box, naturally.

After a few scenes had played out, James found himself entranced by a figure in the audience. Front row. Alone. Seemingly quite content with the arrangement.

So after the play ended, he hurried down the grand stairs to the front doors, hoping to catch the stranger who had caught his attention earlier—

‘Excuse me,’ a stranger apologised as they passed James.

His eyes turned to the stranger, and the heavens were with him, truly.

‘It is quite alright,’ James replied, trying to catch up and get their attention, cursing the gods for making his glasses slip down his nose. ‘Please, allow me to apologise for standing in your path.’

He ran a hand through his unruly black curls before adding, ‘It would be my pleasure. Please.’