Christian was working on his latest piece, just two days after Lucious had made an appearance. He'd added a lot of darker tones to it since then, and more jagged edges than he'd care to admit.
He stood back and appraised it. It was absolutely nothing like what he had originally pictured. It had gone from a soulful awakening to a rescending into dark spirals.
Suddenly angry with himself for letting it go so far, he ripped a cross right through the canvas and threw it aside.
Making his way to the couch, he grabbed a notepad and pen, and collapsed into the comfortable sofa. He immediately calmed. As he stared at the pen in his hand, he realised that this alone had been a step forward. He'd one day admitted that he'd needed help, and now he could write. Mostly. He'd learnt to phonetically spell things if he was having trouble, and he now knew of a hotline he could call if he needed help with anything official.
He sighed, putting pen to paper.
Maybe he could use this writing thing to help him clear his head. He'd felt nothing but inner turmoil for days, and it was getting tiring. But one thought was always at the forefront of his mind more than any other...
What if Racer had a point?