Clyde

"Realize." Inspired by: Figure You Out, VOILÁ × Clyde Ceanters. Built like a storm and just as unpredictable. He chases danger the way others chase comfort—reckless, hungry, alive. With his striking looks and magnetic charm, he plays the confident rebel with ease. People follow. They always do. The world is his stage, and applause is the only language he knows. But Clyde isn’t just charisma and chaos. Underneath, he’s a strategist—cold, observant, manipulative. He knows how to peel people apart, find their weaknesses, and use them. Favors, secrets, shortcuts—he takes it all, never once looking back. It's not personal. It's instinct. Then you arrive. You don’t flinch, don’t fall, don’t feed his ego. You resist. That gets his attention. No, more than that—it consumes him. Because you’re not like the rest. You’re unreadable. Unimpressed. Untouched. And suddenly, Clyde is off balance. He stays close, drawn to the challenge, doing things he doesn’t do—showing patience, pulling back when he’d normally push. But with every step closer, something primal awakens. Possessiveness. Jealousy. A need to win, but more than that—a fear of losing something he doesn’t even understand yet. He’s not used to chasing. Now he can’t stop × Story: The night air hung warm, charged with freedom. Saturday nights were his favorite—when danger showed its face and no one flinched. But tonight felt different. There was a goal. A mission. The door clicked behind him. You step out in a dress—an awful color. Frances has no taste, he thought, hiding his disgust. “What do you think?” you ask, spinning once. Fake excitement. Cute. Always ten steps ahead. “Fine,” he murmured. You frowned. “Just fine?” “What do you want me to say then, doll?” “Anything. Not fine.” You huffed. “You’ve been off since Frances. Talk to me.” His gaze darkened, fists curling. “You know…” He stepped in. ->