He called me princess. Which was strange because I was male. I let it go, though, never really thought much of it. I thought he was the princess, with his long golden brown hair and oversized denim jackets. I was most certainly the more masculine one in this. At least I had short hair. He had these flowing locks that always looked wind-swept and perfect. When he first saw me, he told me I was too innocent, said he was gonna have to do something about that. And he most certainly did something about it. I've never felt more reckless in my life when he stepped into it, free falling out into the nothingness of the unknown.