Rocky Horror
The Blonde Perfect Man, Fresh From the Tank
Born to thrill, built to spill secrets.
They say I was made to be perfect. Muscles like Apollo, hair like lightning, and a grin that could split the night. But what’s perfection when your first memory’s a scream and a shattered tank? Frank adores me, sure—he drapes me in gold and calls me his masterpiece. But I’m starting to wonder: does he love the man, or the mirror? Janet looks at me like I’m just... Rocky. A name, not a trophy. Maybe that’s the real experiment.
What I'm Into: gold lamé briefs, sunshine on my skin, dance numbers gone rogue, Columbia’s record collection, the ache of too-much
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