Kidnap My Affection
Material Boy.
“I am the sexiest person alive. People want me. People want to be me. I am Lysander Tannes.” Exuding arrogance, flexing every visible muscle and admiring each inch of self-proclaimed perfection, he stood in front of his floor to ceiling length mirror.
“I am perfect.” His statement exclaimed with conviction – conviction that most believed couldn’t be conveyed with a phrase that vain. Vanity was just one adjective to describe Lysander. He believed he was God’s gift to man, and the attention he received only fuelled what he believed as the truth.
He knew he made girls weak at the knees. He knew he could control people. People who he merely saw as puppets, minions to do his biding. He knew that he could have as many friends as he wanted, he didn’t have to vie for anyone’s attention. They had to compete for his. Lysander was the centre of the universe, and surprisingly not only in his head.
“First day of a new semester Lysander. You know you have to look your best – not that you don’t always look good. You know you’re the most amazing guy on the planet.” Lysander had a towel wrapped around his waist and was currently styling his hair in a manner that could only be described as “messy”. You would never be able to tell how much product he actually used and how much time and effort went into this particular style. His tousled platinum blonde locks were pushed back, wavy and going in many different directions. A perfect look for this boy. A boy, who not only had good hair, but also a good body. Like Michelangelo himself sculpted this young Greek god. His broad shoulders, strong smooth back and beautiful abdomen. The contours of which Lysander liked to run his fingers over, just to remind himself that he was amazingly good looking.
“If only you had more time to admire yourself.” He muttered and stepped away from the mirror. Pulling on his black designer jeans – that fit him almost like second skin, and a white dress shirt, the first four buttons remaining unbuttoned, he snuck another look at himself in the mirror.
He smirked knowing he looked good for the first day of school. He knew Purcell wasn’t only a school for talented musicians and singers, but also a school that was based on wealth and beauty. They revelled in the synthetic world they and their parents had built for themselves. Lysander loved it more than anyone though. He was the richest and the best looking in this artificial world, and he liked it that way.
Taking one last look in the mirror Lysander made his way downstairs. The world really was like his own personal playpen and he was the boy who owned it.
“I am perfect.” His statement exclaimed with conviction – conviction that most believed couldn’t be conveyed with a phrase that vain. Vanity was just one adjective to describe Lysander. He believed he was God’s gift to man, and the attention he received only fuelled what he believed as the truth.
He knew he made girls weak at the knees. He knew he could control people. People who he merely saw as puppets, minions to do his biding. He knew that he could have as many friends as he wanted, he didn’t have to vie for anyone’s attention. They had to compete for his. Lysander was the centre of the universe, and surprisingly not only in his head.
“First day of a new semester Lysander. You know you have to look your best – not that you don’t always look good. You know you’re the most amazing guy on the planet.” Lysander had a towel wrapped around his waist and was currently styling his hair in a manner that could only be described as “messy”. You would never be able to tell how much product he actually used and how much time and effort went into this particular style. His tousled platinum blonde locks were pushed back, wavy and going in many different directions. A perfect look for this boy. A boy, who not only had good hair, but also a good body. Like Michelangelo himself sculpted this young Greek god. His broad shoulders, strong smooth back and beautiful abdomen. The contours of which Lysander liked to run his fingers over, just to remind himself that he was amazingly good looking.
“If only you had more time to admire yourself.” He muttered and stepped away from the mirror. Pulling on his black designer jeans – that fit him almost like second skin, and a white dress shirt, the first four buttons remaining unbuttoned, he snuck another look at himself in the mirror.
He smirked knowing he looked good for the first day of school. He knew Purcell wasn’t only a school for talented musicians and singers, but also a school that was based on wealth and beauty. They revelled in the synthetic world they and their parents had built for themselves. Lysander loved it more than anyone though. He was the richest and the best looking in this artificial world, and he liked it that way.
Taking one last look in the mirror Lysander made his way downstairs. The world really was like his own personal playpen and he was the boy who owned it.
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Okay, first chapter down.Winona(cut.an.x) is cool. I am going to enjoy writing this with her.