The walrus’s head snapped sideways as the sound of knuckles against bone and blubber resonated through the alley. Blood splattered onto the wall as the drunk flailed against it, barely staying upright. The shadow of a man filled my sight, and with a second fist, he sent the walrus to the ground with a hefty slam. The walrus rolled onto his back, holding his face with both hands, groaning and swearing.

“Pathetic.” The shadow growled as he towered over his victim, shoulders rising and falling with each controlled breath.

No way.

Dark tousled hair touched his broad shoulders, shifting in the humid breeze. He turned, bringing his eyes to mine.

It’s him.

The moonlight brushed Kosmo Night in pale light.

His eyes were narrow, and his chiseled jaw clenched with stiff masseter muscles. On his left eye, he had a faint scar that traced down to his high cheekbones. He had visible dimples even without a smile. His face was sharp, with a commanding presence. There was a tension in his stance, like a coiled spring barely held in check; you could tell something untamed lived beneath the stoic surface.

Waves of anxiety rushed through me. I wanted to say something—to thank him, to laugh this off and play it cool—but my throat was dry; a lump was stuck in there almost making me gag. All I could do was look at him and stare into those piercing yellow eyes. They were so vibrant in real life.

Then I fell to my knees with a wet cough caught in my throat. I threw up violently onto the pavement, my innards splattering everywhere. But Kosmo didn’t flinch; he crouched down beside me, calm. I stared at my mess; my heart thudded against my ribcage. I swallowed as bile threatened to rise again. 

“Hey… everything’s okay now.” He stared at me; hands draped over his knees.

I looked at him with tears in my eyes, but I brushed them away. 

“… I-I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” 

Oh God, I do because—

“… I ruined your boots.”

A light grin touched his lips. “I don’t care about these.”

He isn’t mad or grossed out?

“You… shouldn’t be in this alley.” He added.

I swept my sleeve across my mouth. “I know, I know. Uh—I just needed to get these pins to you…”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“To me?” One brow lifted. “And how do you know who I am?”

Fuck.

“Oh I-I just had a feeling.” I blurted a bit too loud. “You know. You look like a… a Kosmo.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, strong… uh, space energy.”

“Space energy?”

“Mhm.”

“… Hm.”

“I’m not like a stalker or anything.”

“Course not.”

“I-it was just a lucky guess.” I popped a convincing smile.

This was just my luck. I’m face to face with my favorite porn star, and I look like shit. And I have vomit breath. Oh God, he must think I’m disgusting. And this smell… I stared at my vomit, then reached into my pocket grabbing the leftover paint rag I stuffed in there earlier.

“C-can I wipe off your boot?”

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“Please?”

He went quiet. I reached down and began to wipe my mess away feeling the hardness of his boot beneath the fabric. At least I didn’t eat much.

I finished, and he said, “For a stalker, you’re really nice.”

“I’m not a stalker!”

He stood up, “Just a fan?”

“I’m not a fan—a fan of what?” I pushed myself off the ground, my knees shaking with adrenaline. I debated if I should drop the act but the thought made me die inside. Hey, I’ve seen your massive dick, and I like watching you have sex. Can I have your autograph?—GOD I’m such a creep. I’m going to hell. My whole family is going to hell.

“Hm.”

His height rivaled mine but I brought my attention to the box on the ground.

“It’s the space energy.” I lifted the box.

Great cover Sai, I’m sure he’s buying it. Fuck, is he buying it?

“Uh-huuuhh… Why don’t ya let me take that box?”

“S-sure.”

Last night he was on my phone screen, and now he’s here right in front of me?

I had watched a thirst trap of him on my favorite app. The lighting was a dim red. He was visible from the ribs up, shirtless and eye-******* the camera. His right peck shifted as he rhythmically moved his arm—I could only imagine what he was doing off-screen. And now here he is tall, dark, and handsome—with wild eyes that could will me into anything—right in front of me? Am I dreaming?

“So, can I look inside Miss-I’m-Not-A-Fan?”

I nodded.

He reached in, pulling out a pin. He turned it around in his fingers, examining it. “Nice to see our logo like this.”

A sheepish grin fell on my lips.

“Thanks for doing these. I’m surprised anyone took the job.” He placed the pin back.

“Oh—it was no biggie.” I kicked a stray pebble to the adjacent wall. Not like I had broken a nail, crushed a few fingers and spent my money on a button maker for the chance to meet you.

“Welp, let’s get to the bar so I can pay ya. No signal here.”

Right, money.

I glanced over at the drunk. His half-covered belly bloated with air every few seconds as he breathed. I debated calling the cops, but dragging this out gave me anxiety. I just wanted to move on and forget about this… er, just the bad parts.

“Want me to kick him?” Kosmo fixed his eyes on the walrus.

“N-no, no. It’s okay. He’s not worth it.” I let out a breath and turned toward the dim-lit road ahead; Kosmo followed behind me.