Apollo stands at the precipice of his existence and feels the need to live. The need to love the art that drives him destitute and happy. The need to arrive at a place of rest where he hears only the sound of his heart beating to the keys of Sati and Bach. The place of loss...and deliberate gain. The place where the new face is familiar and beautiful. Drawn by the heart. Drawn by the soul.
He will find his place and thrive without vexing his keeper. The man of honor that has kept him from self destruction and death. The man that existed before him and grows stronger by the day. This man will build a house for Apollo. A house with glass that doesn't shatter and furniture riddled with nails. A house where Apollo will do his best without hurting a soul. His lust, his conflict, his passion...is his art. Apollo will live. Behind smoke, strong drink and purpose...he will live...
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