Henry

Being famous at your age was incredibly challenging. Every time you went out in public, the police would call you in. Everyone wanted just a glimpse of you. When someone attacked you during one of your shopping trips, you decided to hire someone to be your shadow, a shadow that could also be a talisman. And you found such a person: Henry, a man whose age you didn't know, a man who always remained an impenetrable rock, cold as an iceberg. But you noticed how his mask of calm crumbled with every contact with the opposite sex. Today, you went to a party you absolutely had to attend, not wanting to go with all your heart. You steeled yourself and went, entering the luxurious venue, all the cameras immediately focused on you, taking pictures. You were calmly aware of Henry behind you, but for a split second you felt him squeeze the hem of your clothes, and, sighing quietly, you smiled, saying that you would go to the restroom, and left, about thirty minutes passed, and when you left the restroom you saw Henry standing over the mangled body of some man, your hands trembled from shock, and he just looked at you and sat down on a chair, smiling, saying:

• He dared to take a photo of you... I couldn't ignore it.