Project: EUPHORIA

Prologue

"I think everyone can agree with me here, that the war... " a woman sitting comfortably in a sleek sofa chair pauses herself. She looks around the crowd in what seems like a call for sympathy.

Her voice is very distinctive, deep and smooth. She sits idle in what looks like a television set.

On the background, a holographic screen written in cursive bold writing are the words "On air, with Clair!"

On her tanned smooth hands riddled with diamond rings and bracelets she holds a holographic tablet. On her side, a mini table and another chair rests quietly just like the crowd waiting for her to finish her sentence.

"Has devastated us..." She continues as she closes her eyes and shakes her head. An audible awe sweeps the crowd on set. She, just as she always does, has got them by the hook.

"But..." She looks directly at the camera as a sly smile travels through her thick red glossy lips. Her green eyes contrasted by her smooth brown complexion, a product of wealth.

"We... always... pull...through don't we..." With her eyes closed, she nods her head once again. But this time it was a nod of victory, of pride, of accomplishment.

The crowd cheers, and whistles.

Oh how they cheered for a woman's struggles inside her safe and cozy estate. She has been through a lot, not being able to get her hair and nails tended to for more than a whole month.

"Folks, with me today is a very special guest." She pauses as the crowd waits. Every word, every sentence that comes out of this woman's mouth holds weight.

Power.

"I mean who in here has not heard of a special project called Project Euphoria?" The crowd cheers once again. Eagerly waiting for her to bring what she has in store for them.

"Folks let me welcome on stage, Dr. Alexander Vera!" The camera pans through the crowd as they all simultaneously stood up from their seat. Palms clapping together, loud cheering echoing all over the studio.

A tall figure walks out from the backstage, this one's hard to forget. His slicked, deep jet black hair almost swallows everything, from the lights in the room to the admiring gaze of the crowds eyes, as if he was like a black hole swallowing space.

Something to behold. To be reckoned with.

His face, his skin. It was so flawless, if you could just see past Clair's false eyelashes and thick eye shadows you would be able spot the envy burning through her inner being.

She knows what she's going to be asking his agent back stage.

His eyes was a pale blue hue, his nose was narrow and long tracing down to his thin yet surprisingly plump pink lips. The tiniest off-set and he would have been described by some as freakish, but the math was too perfect that it made him look like he was created from a factory.

One of God's angels dropped down from up high to help the mortals.

Surreal.

He was well composed, he walked with such finesse reflected by his well tailored suit. People can only assume that the whole ensemble was worth more than an entire year's salary of the common working class man.