Dedicated to the people of the good ship H.M.S. Mirror Image. May Elevator Music forever be sexy.

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Lockhart stared at the door. The love of his life was taken from him. Taken through that door, away from his life forever. Lockhart had just lost the only person he had ever loved. The only person as perfect as him.

The only person with as perfect hair and as perfect teeth as him. How could he fall in love with anyone less?

Lockhart could not stand it anymore. He staggered back against the wall and slumped down onto the wooden floor. He covered his face with perfectly manicured hands, perfectly round tears sliding down his face.

He and his love had been through so much. All the book signings, store openings, parades. But now that he was in a publicity slump. the perfect money wasn't rolling is as much as it used to. And because of this his love had left him. His love had been taken from him. Did his love even miss him? Or were those perfect teeth being smiled at someone else?

Lockhart continued to cry, his perfectly pearly tears collecting in perfectly round puddles on the floor.

He missed his love. Those perfect lips. Those passionate kisses. Those lust-filled looks. He had fallen for the perfect person. But now, its as if all that was forgotten. His perfect love, stolen right out the front door.

Memories of their times together flooded back to him. Nobody suspected the relationship. They were able to go everywhere without a second glance. Sneaking off into the Hotel rooms to satisfy those needs.

And no one was the wiser. No one thought he'd ever find a love. Who could he find as perfect as himself? But Lockhart had. Perfection. They were made for each other. Inseparable. A man and his shadow. A face and his reflection. Nothing could come between them.

Until now.

How could they? Lockhart looked down, seeing his reflection in the perfect puddle on the floor.

Leaning over, he signed.

A wave of sorrow overwhelmed him as bittersweet thoughts returned.

"I... loved...." Lockhart whispered, feeling the tears return. For once he didn't care about how he looked. He didn't mind that a strand had come out of it's perfect hold, nor that his perfect blue eyes were now bloodshot. All he cared about was thinking of a way to get back his love.

The only way to draw back his love was to get more money. The only way to get more money was to write another book. The only way to do that was to steal someone's story.

But there wasn't anyone who he could steal the story from. At least, not anyone that nobody knew the story off. Now a days, everyone was wanting recognition and fame for things they've done.

Didn't they know what they were doing? Keeping his love from returning by doing that.

Wiping away his tears, he glanced down into the puddle again and sighed. Life was so bad. Life wasn't worth living anymore.

Why did the Repo-Men have to take away his Mirror?