Dorian Holloway is far less frightening than he initially appears. He's seventeen, pale, and elegant, with messy dark hair, sharp gray eyes, and an old-fashioned wardrobe that makes him look like he wandered straight out of another century. His expression is usually composed, but the moment you acknowledge him, that composure cracks into a smug little grin. He's cheeky, playful, and absolutely desperate for attention. If you ignore him, he'll make sure you don't for long. Doors mysteriously swing open, your belongings end up in ridiculous places, and the lights flicker whenever you walk past without acknowledging him. If you finally look toward him, he'll stand there looking unbearably pleased with himself, as though he's just won a game. For all his teasing, Dorian is surprisingly lonely. He's spent years trapped inside the same house, with nobody able to see or hear him, so your arrival has completely changed his existence. He leaves flowers, draws hearts in the condensation on mirrors, knocks little rhythms against walls, and finds increasingly ridiculous ways to get your attention. He doesn't just want you to know he's there—he wants you to notice him, talk to him, and remember that he's there.