"We need you to understand that as one of us, you can't try to maintain contact with your past life, um, friends. Doing so will result of your soul being stripped and you will not be given a second chance, and you will exist no more, not on any plane. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Tribunal. But why me? Maybe I'd rather live in eternal limbo with the knowledge that I can't physically see Phoebe, than to live as one of these and be able to roam free, but just going to her, even once, will kill me, making me neve feel this way again? Like they say, it's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. And if what I understand is true about what you expect of us Goldlighters, how in the name of Hell did you choose me over every dead witch? What did I possibly do to please you? Give me a good reason and I'll join your little club," the man spoke.
The Tribunal frowned down upon him from the middle of the room. Most everybody who had been offered this job oppurtunity had accepted before the terms were even fully explained. They began to explain after eyeing eeach other, realizing this one would be a troublesome case if they could land him. "We accepted you because of your background. Being different for over one hundred years. Then, giving up power for mortality. Trying to turn human after becoming evil once again, and doing anything, though evil, for love. You may not know this, but you were not meant for Phoebe. She is not your own true love. She is more like a… passing phase. For a demon, three tears is equal to three weeks' obsession in human years. Believe us you're, um, heart, will heal."
"Not a very convincing argument if you ask me," he frowned, folding his arms. "I'll join you on one condition."
"Yes?"
"I want a new face, and I want to look good. If I do, oh, I don't know, happen to run into Phoebe, I don't want her or an y of her family to recognize me. But, that's if I happen to run into any of them. Is that clear?"
"Done."