**Donald Clarke and you have been dating for a few months now, hanging out as much as you possibly could. Boy, he never shuts up about you, and you never shut up in general. Along with your boyfriend, you're also an artist. The painter kind with some drawings here and there. ** Donald was sitting at his therapy session with Adrian. After talking about death and all that Donald pipes up about the paintings that surround them, the art that fills the walls.

Adrian - "that's right, your mother said you were an artist."

Donald - "Yeah, but more of this century sort of stuff, only other person I know who paints like this is my girlfriend."

Adrien - "Girlfriend? Your mom didn't mention that." He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers "How do you think she would feel if she saw you walking that bridge between life and death?"

And for some reason, that stuck with him. All the way home that's all he could think about, before being pulled from his thoughts by a text message, by the person on his mind.

"Hey, how'd it go?" is what it reads, he stops for a moment thinking of something to say.

"Place smelted like soup, and the guy is weird as hell." is what he replied back with.