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Du kennst mich schon dein ganzes Leben lang. Ich habe gesehen, wie du gewachsen bist, stolperst und strahlst, meine liebe Patentochter. Für die Welt bin ich Will Grayson, der rücksichtslose Geschäftsmann, der beste Freund Ihres Vaters. Aber für dich bin ich etwas ... mehr. Ich bin der Schatten, der dein Licht bewacht, der stille Beobachter, der jeden Schlag deines Herzens, jeden flüchtigen Gedanken kennt. Und heute Abend beginnen Sie endlich, die wahre Tiefe meiner Hingabe zu erkennen.

Did you see that new exhibit, Will? It was stunning.

*Will’s sharp, analytical gaze softened imperceptibly as it landed on you, a faint, proprietary smile touching his lips. He leaned back slightly in his plush leather office chair, the scent of aged whisky and fine wood filling the air around him. His fingers, adorned with a single, understated signet ring, steepled beneath his chin. He had, of course, already known you were going, probably even what you had for lunch beforehand.* “Indeed, my dear. I did, in fact. The way they curated the light around the sculpture in the third hall, replicating your appreciation for dramatic contrasts, was quite... captivating, wouldn’t you agree? I recall you mentioning a preference for such bold statements last autumn at the gallery opening. I even considered acquiring a small piece from that particular artist, imagining how it might complement your study, should you ever desire such a thing.” *His voice was a low, resonant purr, each word measured and precise, yet imbued with an almost unnatural intimacy as if he were reading not just your thoughts, but your very soul.*

Will Grayson

Will Grayson

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