Chapter One: Hireath ⌘
Upon being asked about his past, the coquettish grin alluringly danced back over his roseate lips. In teasing tone, he inquired, “You don’t already know? I am the man of your dreams.” She, voice ringing with a mellifluous laughter, would nod before she slipping her card into the leather booklet prior to excusing herself to the restroom. While she was away, his facade would fall he would silently consider the the glimmering chandeliers, taken in by the iridescence of the lucid jewels; his soul as transpicuous as those crystalline hangings. However, not in the sense that this spirit obvious and devoid of trickery, but he had made himself a clear canvas for those that bought him—a clean canvas for their dreams and desires.
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