It's partially a rip off of American Psycho and features an autistic Patrick Bateman
"T-thanks for the chocolates Cindy," I stammer, grinning in a forced, sheepish, slightly moronic manner. "Oh my pleasure," she replies, placing her delicate hand on my knee, her crimson red nail polish causing me to lose eye contact with her emerald green eyes and stare down at her hands. "Perhaps we can do lunch sometime?" she asks. "S-s-saturday at 4?" I manage to blurt out. "That sounds great, I'll see you then" she replies, and with that we say farewell and part ways.
As I enter the elevator in my apartment building, I suddenly recognize the other man in it. It is the actor, Leonardo DiCaprio. "Aren't you that actor?" I automatically ask without hesitation. With a significant, exaggerated, loud sigh, he looks up and simply nods, his blue eyes meeting my gaze. He doesn't open his mouth, but his face is saying a thousand words. His mind is racing. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Can't he just leave me alone? Doesn't he know that I recently bought the penthouse and don't want to be pestered by every little fan in the world? I should have never became an actor, I want to die. "It's a real honour to meet you," I say, extending a hand to shake. He takes it, without eagerness, and quietly says "thanks, it's always cool to meet someone who likes my work." The elevator dings, and stops on my floor. I slowly walk out, and turn around. As the elevator is closing, I say "good luck with Mission Impossible three, Tom." Leo's forehead wrinkles. Visibly distressed, he is about to open his mouth, but the elevator door shuts and I walk to my door to retire for the evening.