Matthew Wolfe has a minion!

Regret the Ovlibion

He wasn't sure if it was what he wanted.

He was certainly wanted. Being the singer and frontman of a popular rock band meant thousands of enamored fans. Being immensely attractive meant thousands of screaming girls. Being a natural introvert meant conflict.

No one could tell he liked being alone, not with the way he acted. He could play a crowd like he played guitar, charismatic and charming, with an easy smile and blue eyes that were lit with a disarming twinkle. A typical handsome celebrity, and people fell for the act every time.

He didn't use drugs. Didn't need to. He had everything anyone could ever want: friends, money, good looks, a steady flow of girlfriends and lovers. People loved him. He loved parties too, letting loose, getting drunk, messing around with women. It distracted him, and let him forget that he ever wondered if there was something more satisfying out there.

Because he was never satisfied, not completely. Sometimes he would be forced to face that fact. Looking into the eyes of his fans. Lying awake in the middle of the night with a girl sleeping next to him that he hardly knew. Standing alone on the deck of his back porch, the remnants of a party from the night before strewn around him. Those things - fame, sex, friends - satisfied him, but only until they were over. Left in the aftermath, they felt hollow. Worthless.

But he always convinced himself it was enough. No one could ever be truly content in this life, could they? You took what you could from life and that was what you got. There was nothing more. With what he already had, what more was there to ask for? His life wasn't perfect, but it was a heck of a lot better than everyone else's. No, he wasn't the stereotypical troubled rock star. He was fine. Just fine.

He was doing quite well, living his life of facades and fleeting satisfaction. Until he met her. She exemplified something that he had been searching for his entire life, though he could never quite name what it was. It wasn't love. No, it was something more than that, something deeper and more intense. Something he was afraid to embrace, because it would mean admitting that his entire life, the way he was living it, meant nothing. It would mean giving up the pleasure that kept him afloat for something that completely remade him.

He wasn't sure if that was what he wanted.