Okay, here's how this arc is going to work. First of all, it's not a stand-alone. This is a seven-part series. The overall arc is entitled "How to Be" but the chapter titles will change from each different section. So this first chapter is "How to Be: Obsessed", the next one will be "How to Be: Desperate", and so on. The p.o.v. will also alternate between Hunter and Stephanie. 

Part I--How to Be: Obsessed

The man surveyed the crowd dancing below. The pulse of the music throbbed in his body, the lighting cast shadows over faces, giving even the most ordinary visage an ethereal sort of glow. Since virtually everyone in the room was simply beautiful or at least really good looking, the lighting was all the more intense. He ignored the women who "accidentally" brushed his arm, shooting them disdainful glares, but still didn't bother to actually move.

His attention was completely riveted to the young woman dancing in the throngs below. Her long brown hair bounced around her shoulders. She wore glitter on her bare arms and it taunted the light around her, making her skin glow. Her arms swung smoothly as she moved against the two—oh, now it was three—men dancing around her. In addition to Earring Guy and Sailor Boy (the names due to the fact one had about eight piercings and the second guy was so clean-cut he looked just—sailorish), there was now Purple Shiny Shirt Guy.

If looks could kill, God, those guys would so be *ash* by now.

His fingers tensed on the balcony railing.

He wondered when he had turned from the World Champion into a pathetic stalker.

He wonders if this is what it felt like to have an obsession.

He didn't know, he'd never had one before. The quest for his title…was merely a passion. His work? The same.

But this…he didn't know how to quantify this. Obsession was the only word that really fit….which was somewhat unsettling, really.

He thinks this might have begun three weeks ago when he'd been walking past the T.V. It had been innocent enough, really. He'd been brushing his teeth…and that was when he saw her in that tight black tank top.

Three Weeks Prior

He dropped the toothbrush. Swallowed, then winced as he realized he'd had a mouthful of toothpaste.

Angrily, he switched the channel. Friends was on. The chicks were hot enough, sure, but no…the big dorky guy who liked dinosaurs had always freaked him out.

Must-see t.v. his ass.

He flipped again. Survivor. Heh. If those idiots thought being in the middle of the Amazon was hard, he'd love to see them try and survive one day in the WWE.

The WWE was the real Survivor.

And suddenly she was back on his T.V. again. Huh. He'd flipped back without even realizing it. His finger twitched as if to turn the channel again but…

It didn't move. He stared blankly down at his hand and slowly put the remote down. He sat on the bed, feeling the give of the mattress beneath him.

He realized he hadn't breathed in over a minute. Inhale, exhale. Breathing used to come so naturally to him.

It was seven-ten p.m. and Hunter Hearst-Helmsley was bored out of his mind.

He was really damn tired of being bored. Brown eyes studied the television thoughtfully, as if he thought if he could just *stare* hard enough it would be like she was in the same room with him.

He tore his gaze away from the television. On the night stand there was a small black book absolutely filled with the names of dozens of girls, any one of which would gladly come over to this room and relieve his boredom.

Nice girls. Pretty girls, with vacant stares and vapid expressions. No pressure, no expectations….

No real feelings involved.

He sighed, laying back on the bed.

It was time to do something about this.

Present Day, Three Weeks Later

"Look, lady," He exploded as he intentionally elongated the last word, implying she was really nothing of the sort. It was the what? Fourth? Fifth time she'd 'brushed' against him. Subtlety was not called for here, and he doubted she was even aware of the concept.

"I'm not looking to get laid, I'm not looking for companionship, I am just standing here figuring out the most painful way to snap a few limbs, okay?" He yelled.

The woman backed away nervously. "So-rry." She drawled. He turned his attention back to Step—his eyes searched the area frantically where was she? His eye caught a bright flash of purple at an exit—and she was with him! Damn it! He plowed through the dancers around him and took the stairs down to the floor in threes.