He is named Faisal Ahmed.
Twenty-three. Middle-Eastern descent. Into contact sports, baking, and vintage automobiles.
Usually the silent type. The sort you'd find in a corner. Alone. In the company of coffee and coffee-table books. Frivolous. Like a wallflower.
Without explosives beneath his vest, one would hope.
But his smile, though shy, is genuine. And scarce. And hopeful.
He looks like he enjoys the gym a little too much. Goes without saying that he lifts heavier than your boyfriend. Seven years of body-building, and such.
Student by day. Online predator by night. Can't blame a lonely guy, no?
Speaks English, Arabic. Trying to learn oriental languages.
LARP Crusader. Aspiring novelist, for real.
Animal companions make him happy. And no, not that kind of 'happy.'
He likes being called 'Amir,' or prince. Doesn't know what to think about being treated like one, though.
The prince has one humble request: Approach him. And keep him company. Or maybe exchange shy glances with him. Just make him feel alive, already.
Questions? Just ask.