Tucked under the covers, the thick beige fur scented with vanilla and expensive manly cologne emanated from him like a smoking, but haunting flame, his half-lidded, striking blue eyes were glazed as he stared out the small window high in the wall in front of him, in the hospital's rehabilitation wing.

His brown hair with its many shades wavy between golden brown like mountain honey and the dazzling golden that shines like sand under the sun of the coast with freckles kissing under his thick brown eyelashes that frame his eyes, his large calloused hands clutching the handful of her white fox fur scarf as he smells her sweet, intoxicating scent clinging to the expensive fabric.

The sound of her footsteps finally approaches the room, followed by her melodic voice that warms his soul as she greets him. The young actor in his thirties raises his eyes to look at her, there she is⎯⎯His luminous firefly.

Hair up in a neat bun, complimenting the beauty of her delicious, sculpted neck, white labcoat flowing elegantly around her, her intoxicating eyes finding his with the sweetest smile that diluted the concentration of toxins that temporarily gave him ecstasy in his corrupt blood, despite fame and the love of fans, the abundance of lovers and the abundance of money and wealth and admiration and reverence.

Tears and screams, a torn sore throat, his screams and begging for a dose of that substance were non-stop, his hands hysterically thrashing against the walls and doors leaving crimson bruises on the walls and wounded knuckles, a slight beard and a light upper mustache, he refused to shave, he refused to leave his room⎯⎯she came, he found himself fading away when she hugged him for the first time, he buried his face in the fullness of those generous, ample, supple, round breasts, still young, soft and fresh.

Maxence was nothing but an empty soul, a soul that sought to take toxins in exchange for a few minutes of ecstasy, now he lies in a rehabilitation home after losing his mind due to not taking the usual dose.