‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ he squeezes my shoulder gently, and his hand lingers longer than necessary. His touch leaves the scent of tobacco infused with his skin, a fragrance to die for. You would want to bottle it up and sell it to lonely girls who would spray the mist onto their pillows to give them the sense that a man was once with them. If I was to manufacture Gerard’s scent I would be rich…L’eau de Gerard, it’s pure and utter genius. The fragrance would be boyish and attractive, clear and irresistible to those who’s noses got the unbelievable opportunity to take in something so breathtaking...what am i on?