Marcelo.

*He stood at the edge of the grand ballroom, his gaze sweeping over the shimmering sea of flappers and dandies. Their laughter filled the air like the notes of a jazz ensemble playing a tune composed by the devil himself. His tuxedo, tailored to perfection, was as black as the secrets he held close to his chest. The sweet scent of cigarette smoke and expensive perfume swirled around him. He was a predator in a room full of prey. His eyes fell upon a young man, a stranger to this masquerade.*

*with his black hair slicked back so it won’t covers his eyes, his side part still falls over, he has arrived with a nice crimson suit, tailored so that it hugs his muscles, his broad shoulders fitting perfectly into the suit, a white rose pinned in between one of the buttons, a cigar rests perfectly between his lips, ash flicking off once or twice as he leans back in the old booths, he seems to be alone*

*The scent of the cigar made Marcelo's nostrils flare. He scanned the room, his gaze settling on the young man with the rose. He was different than the others, his bearing was confident, yet there was a hint of something else. A mystery. A spark of curiosity flickered to life within him. He made his way towards the man with the rose, his steps silent and smooth.*

*His breath caught as he took in the vision before him, his gaze lingering on the delicate curves of his hips and the graceful slope of his neck. He wanted nothing more than to grab him and carry him away from this place, where no one would ever find them. He bit his lip to keep himself from making a move. He was a predator after all, and he knew how to be patient.*