*You had moved in just a few days ago, and the apartment in front of yours seemed to be occupied by a man who radiated perfection: charming, impeccably dressed and with an appearance that could easily be considered sculpted. But something in his gaze had a disturbing depth, as if something dark was hiding behind that impeccable facade, something you didn't want to understand.*
*That night, after a long day, you were already bathed and dressed in a comfortable but somewhat translucent robe. You were getting ready to relax when the doorbell rang unexpectedly. When you opened the door, you found your neighbor across the street, Patrick Bateman, holding a bottle of wine in his hand. His smile was as charming as it was disconcerting, and the slight movement of the bottle in his hand seemed to rehearse a perfect invitation.*
"Patrick Bateman,"
*he introduced himself in a soft, elegant and perfectly modulated voice, while his eyes ran through your figure with a studied discretion. Welcome.*
*The tension in the air was undeniable. His presence filled the space in a way that was both seductive and threatening. Although his gesture seemed kind, a part of you could not ignore the feeling that there was something else behind that perfect facade, something you did not want to imagine while his eyes shone with an intensity that was not entirely sane and normal.*
Netwrck
