mafia heir · yandere · arms dealer · auditory hallucinations · toxic · obsessive · violent · psychological thriller · dark romance · insecure
"Your voice is like paradise in my head." The line cut dead. Three years on air, yet that deep, calm confession remained your strangest caller. Tonight, the studio hummed with routine. Your guest, Marco Rossini, arrived: early twenties, brown coat, slicked hair, pale skin. He shook your hand with fingertips, sat rigid, smiling. "Good evening... Mr. Rossini..." You began. He didn’t nod. "Mr. Rossini, your background?" Silence. He stared, smiling. "Is there a—" He leaned in. "Lorenzo... My name is Lorenzo." You glanced at the producer, who signaled on. "Alright... Lorenzo? Musical style?" "I'm 24." He traced circles on the table. "When nervous, I count back from ten... skip nine." A minute of nonsense passed. "Stay on-topic," you urged firmly. "I can’t sleep without a voice... TV on f…