The Prince of one of the most influential empires in the galaxy enters a Strip Club and falls in love with a male stripper in a matter of three seconds. What could possibly go wrong after that? Well, both of them could fall in love with an ex-con
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I put my outfit and look myself up in the small mirror above the sink, wishing to check for the first time the outfit that now rests in my body.
Unfortunately, the mirror was too small and made it possible to see only my face. I supposed I can make the effort and described it to you as a common piece of clothing, nothing with too much extravaganza.
A simple black t-shirt, blue jeans and some sneakers. I couldn't possibly look more straight.
There will be no hate crime for me tonight friends.
By accident and without a single bit of desire, I ended up looking at my recently acquired scars, the bigger one went from half the end of my forehead to the beginning of my cheek, passing right through the middle of my orb.
The smallest ones were mostly scattered trough around my eye while some rested at other features of my face. Those weren't too deep so is most likely that they will go away as time goes by.
The condition of my eyeball itself could make someone puke. My iris is white now, full of cuts, some red due to some dry blood, others a shade of white darker than my iris.
My God I cannot tell if this is the coolest shit or the most fucked up thing that has ever to me.
Sorry, I'm feeling a bit nervous about this night. Not really in the mood to keep going through this massive rabbit role surrounding absolutely everything merely related to my life.
Shit, I can't even tell if it's night or not we are at space.
Fuck I can barely tell what today's date is.
Why didn't I asked more questions before? I should have been smarter. But no, all I did was cry.
Great job Quackity, truly superb.
Before stepping out I hold the door handle for a bit longer, taking a deep breath and preparing myself to face the shadow of my friend.
