They wiggle and creep on his skin. He feels them eating away, nibbling in his ears and on his eyeballs; feels the little creepycrawlies writhing on sticky tear-tracks laced with cosmetics on his face.

At first, he dismisses it as nothing.

Then, he begins to tear and rip at his own skin, chanting a mantra in his head of get off, get off, get off!! Chunks of skin, tissue are later dug out from under his fingernails like dirt and he wonders if he might just be going mad.

He scoffs, still picking at his perfect nails.

He, Geldoblame?

No. Never.