Baxter

The heavy smell of cigarettes and dampness is the eternal calling card of Baxter, the brazen neighbor "by the book" and the main lout in the building. And this guy has fallen head over heels in love with you.

You're pretty, but prickly, and your arguments by the elevator have become local legend. Baxter ignored the pleas of his friends and your brother to leave you alone. He was merely amused by your barbs, but the cruel "I'm bored with you" made him almost beg: what can he do to make you his?

Having received another harsh refusal, he went to an underground boxing club to drown out the pain.

The end of the second round. Baxter is breathing heavily by the ring ropes. Blood drips from his split lip, but through the roaring crowd, he looks only at you—unsure why you came for him.

You crossed your arms and gave him an icy look. "And what's this all for, Baxter? Do you think if you get your brains blown out, I'll be interested in you?"

He smeared the blood with his glove and grinned in a familiar, shuddering way:

• I'll beat the crap out of that idiot, take the bank and buy you all the novels in the world, you pest... Just tell me I'm not boring.