Hypnotic

Jeffrey's gaze

Another day and Jeff was thinking about stupid fucking Zoran Milanović again. Zoran was a hot president. He had icy blue eyes and rich, black hair with grey undertones. The way he spoke with such passion, and dignity. He was beautiful. Enchanting, even. He was all that Jeff could think about. He keeps him up at night. The thoughts of the possibility of them being together haunted him. He placed his Karlovačko down as he walked over to the window, averting his brown-eyed gaze to the outside world. The beautiful, yet so incredibly violent country of Croatia. Jeff had been staying here awhile. He made a business deal that had him sign a contract that required him to stay here. After all, he was a CEO and an entrepreneur. 

Jeff loved the lands of Croatia at first. They were beautiful, after all. He had a beautiful view of the Adriatic sea which he got to wake up to every morning. He loved spending his time exploring the city of Zagreb, and all the mysterious wonders it hides. He had a deep appreciation for it. One of his favorite hobbies had been exploring the food stores. Konzum, to be exact. It was his favorite. Every Sunday, he loved waking up to the scent of the Adriatic sea and hopping out of bed to run to his local Konzum to grab some newspaper and yoghurt. 

That was until he met Zoran, at least. They ran into each other one day at a local Konzum, where Jeff was doing his Sunday routine of grabbing newspaper and yoghurt. At first glance, the two had a spark between them. A spark like no other. It was practically a firework at that point. Yet just like every other firework, it explodes. It explodes and it detonated his heart. It left him infatuated with president Zoran Milanović. 

Zoran was different than everyone else. He never even showed interest towards Jeff, or any sign of affection at all. It was all unrequited. This was unusual for Jeff, because Jeff had always assumed that everyone loved him. All of his dearest friends saw him as an elegant entrepreneur, yet Zoran had always played hard to get with Jeff. That was... if Zoran was playing at all. Zoran didn't even know Jeff liked him.

There Jeff stood, peering over his balcony as he looked out onto the town. That was until his gaze landed on something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the hot figure of Zoran Milanović. Jeff gulped. He glanced over at his reflection, checking how he looked so he could make sure it was good enough for Zoran. When his eyes were met with his own, he saw nothing but a rich, selfish, bald man who drank Karlovačko at the ripe time of 12 AM. No matter what all of his friends think of him, he will never be good enough for Zoran. Not even after the time he had once helped cross a pleasant John F. Kennedy cross the street.