Chapter 7

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After visiting the Yasuda Fire Insurance Company, he went back to Jean Paul Gautier the next morning with a large black flat suitcase. This time he passed the reception without any loss of time. When he entered Jean's studio, he was making the last corrections on the outfit that hung on a doll.

Did the good guy really work through the whole day and probably the night? And at his age? When Jean noticed him, a smile shone on his face.

"Mon ami! I'm almost done. The finishing touch comes when you wear it."

Lyric undressed except for his underwear. Jean contemplated the miracle of God that stood before him. There was a knock at the door and Janette came in without waiting for an answer. Her gaze stuck to Lyric's half-naked body and she froze.

"Beautiful."

Clearly defined muscles, silk skin and the tattoos, animalistic, wild. She was spellbound. Lyric made an angry face. Suddenly, she was pulled out backwards. Lucille had simply taken her with her and closed the door with a "Please excuse us".

Janette was stunned. That wasn't a human being. That was a god. She had seen heaven. For the next two hours she was unresponsive.

"Sorry, I'm going to fire her," Jean said angrily.

"Not necessary, she certainly didn't do it on purpose. My body is your private playground Jean, you know that."

Jean was twenty when he met Lyric. He had a dream – to become a famous fashion designer. Lyric had supported him financially because he had found his fashion sense special and unusual. When he was in a slump, he had let his imagination run wild. This man had the body of Adonis and, like so many, he had longed for Lyric but in all these years, Jean had never crossed that line. He knew he wasn't worthy of him, but his clothes were to be.

Lyric put on his pants and then slipped into the top. The pants were made of an anthracite fabric that was light and flexible, but still looked high-quality. The top was made of a wafer-thin cyan shirt that nestled against Lyrics' body and the anthracite vest was only about three millimeters thick and had a stunning silver rose pattern. The buttons also shone silver.

It was perfect. Lightweight yet movable. Tear-resistant, yet elastic. He looked at his masterpiece. Lyric made some sweeping, fast movements, and the fabric held together nicely Then he tried to establish a connection with his runes. It worked flawlessly. "Jean, this is your masterpiece," he praised the fashion designer.

Jean went into the corner and got another pair of shoes. These were combat boots in the elegant design of an evening event. Insane.

"I allowed myself to complete the outfit."

He really surpassed himself.

Carefully, the fashion designer made a few corrections here and there, then he packed everything in a garment bag and handed it to Lyric.

"Time for payment," Lyric said.

"Mon ami, you know that I don't accept any money from you."

"That's not necessary either." He handed Jean the big suitcase. "Open it."

The human carefully placed it on the table and opened the side locks, then folded the front to the side to inspect the contents. "Mon dieu. There is no-", he broke off and looked down in awe. "Lyric, please don't tell me this is the original. These aren't the vase avec quinze tournesols by Van Gogh?"

Lyric just grinned. "Yes, my friend and I know you've been longing after it for decades." He took the garment bag. "Have fun with it, mon ami," he said with a laugh and then left.

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