Mr Taiwan 

Product of Taiwan and Britain. His father was a burgeoning CEO in the Far East and I guess he got curious. His mother, his secretary, was the outlet of this curiosity and became his sex-etary. Somehow that resulted in a marriage. I guess he did look like an accident.

Like most mistakes, a creator far away was found and he was buried there: Eton College for boys. He rarely went home after boarding: he spent time with his grand parents and friends. He exhibited signs of Reactive Attachment disorder, which is common amongst abandoned children. He lacked the ability to express emotions and develop meaningful relationships. 
What he lacked in emotional issues he made up in intellect. He had utilised his privileged background and his sharp intellect to set up a hedge fund at 24. He was impressive on paper but then again paper can be shredded. 
He had chosen Nobu and contrary to his glowing commentary on the restaurant, it almost certainly was not the height of Japanese culinary experiences in London. I allowed him to exist in his bubble of belief: I wasn’t in a bursting mood. I passively nodded and I started to think about his mother. He had said she was quite basic. I try to imagine what my life could be like if my head was filled with simplicity. I would just be an slightly above-average-pretty girl and one day my prettiness would leave and I will be wrinkles and bones. I suspect it was before her calcium carbonate protruded her inelastic skins that his father probably got sick of her. There is only so much simplicity you can take. I look at the reflection of myself in the shiny metallic logo of my bag I realised I am never going to be just skin and bones: my sass levels are insane. 

He looked at me and then toward the waiter. He raised his hand and with a flick of his wrist he made the most obnoxious noise ever: he clicked his fingers at the waiter. I held my breath and I looked at the monster he was. 

He looked at me and said he had already selected so I should hurry up. Still baffled, I said nothing. He asked for me to pick in 4,3,2 and 1 itherwise he was picking for me. At the end of his countdown he looked like a kid waiting for a broken rocket to lift off. He realised there was no lift off so he went ahead and picked for me. He smiled in a gallant manner, blissfully unaware by his presence. I bet his parents never realised the harm the lack of a good hug can inflict.

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