Boy, I've been watching you like the hawk in the sky, that fly and you were my prey
Ambition was Romeo’s most defining trait, relentless in its manifest. There was nothing that he wanted, that he wasn’t willing to do whatever it took in order to achieve it—more often than not, he would fulfill it as well. But the loss of his bright career was perhaps one of his biggest defeats, which would consume and necrose his body as the days advanced. He felt like a corpse without the adoration of millions of fans; without the self-indulgence and opulence of being a revered pop superstar. He wanted to continue being a God. But the world was a cruel place, especially to those who they deemed different, and thus unworthy. His carelessness in regards to his lechery, led to the contraction of HIV, and the revelation snowballed into a public lynching as his status and his sexuality were made known to an audience who weren’t receptive; a world still unkind to the “other”. That unkindness further added fuel into Romeo’s drive. He’d stop at nothing to regain everything he’d lost. And as he laid near naked in bed at twilight hour, his brown skin rich and soft as cocoa butter, and the contours of his abdomen muscles tensing with eager anticipation, he knew where to begin…
Pulling himself out his momentary self-pity, he speeds to his closet to get dressed in his best designer streetwear, then calls for a driver to take him to 'Casa Escobar', just off the beaches of Atlantis. Through his maintained contacts at his record label, he'd been able to gather the whereabouts of the songwriter who made his solo career: August Keller. And 'Casa Escobar', specifically, is where August worked as a server. What Romeo planned to make of this information had previously yet to be decide, but upon deeper reflection, he narrowed it down to a single option, with only two possible methods. Through sex and through intimidation (or violence) he was able to be quite convincing. So intending to form an agreement with the songwriter—in order for him to produce more hits—these were his best options.
As the sun tucks into its bedding of clouds, pulling a sheet of darkness over the Pacific shoreline, Romeo swaggers out the backseat of his luxury vehicle after it pulls out front. He adjusts his leather jacket and his denim trousers, lays his expensive shades to rest on his nose, and then heads into the restaurant, eliciting subdued reactions across the hospitable locale, which he soaks in. A hostess spares no time to guide him to a secluded table and from there, the game commences. Round one.