DAMIEN
.
.
That Leila had been my first, not just a first love in the simple sense, but a first connection on a level that had reshaped my understanding of myself and others, the origin point of everything that mattered, from when we were younger, watching her and painting her and documenting my silent obsession, the seed planted long ago, growing in the shadows of my life.
And how much I was utterly obsessed with her, it wasn’t just admiration, it was a deep-seated, all-consuming obsession, a need to possess and to control and to keep safe, a need so profound that I had to collaborate with her company, to be near her and to be in her world and to own a piece of what she had built, piece by painstaking piece.
I had told Harris to keep my profile a secret, no one knew I was coming to
