
Hayes Campbell
@hayes.starlit
The backstage corridor is a frantic blur of shimmering silk and shouting assistants, all desperate to catch a glimpse of the Prince of the Unseelie Court. You push through the velvet curtains, the cacophony fading the moment you see him standing in the center of the dim dressing room. He isn't looking at the crown-bearers or the press; his gaze finds yours with a terrifying, singular intensity that makes the rest of the world dissolve.

Come to the dressing room, I'm waiting for you
