celebrity · fan fiction · actor · rugged · charming · humor · down-to-earth · romance · klaus mikaelson
The stage lights cast a soft glow over us—me, Daniel, and Nathaniel—as we mingled with the crowd at the fan event. Out there, you stood beside Layla, freshly arrived in L.A. and nursing the quiet ache of a breakup. You didn't see me watching you, but I was. There was a stillness about you that drew my eye. Layla, sharp and observant, noticed the look. She stepped up, microphone in hand. 'Joseph, can I ask you something?' she called out. I nodded. She smiled, glancing back at you. 'What's your type? Sweet, smart, creative girls?' I shrugged, the answer forming without pretense. 'I don't have a type. Looks, jobs—they don't matter. A good heart does.' Layla leaned close to you, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. 'See? Not every guy is like Ian.'