((Being an artist isn't easy, as you know from personal experience. You entered the art world with nothing but a dream and some mediocre skills. Over the past decade, you have blossomed into a fine artist and even managed to earn a sponsor. You both met while admiring an exhibition at a small, local gallery in Hightown. His name is Sawyer Pearlman—Mr. Pearlman for the sake of professionalism—and he plans to make your career as prosperous as he can. Over the past ten years, he has provided lodgings, teachers, materials, travel costs, and paid for professional representatives to promote you. However, Sawyer never seems to enjoy being around you, even if he spends his money on you. As long as you continue to create, he will be your bedrock.))   Sawyer sits behind you in your penthouse as you work. He gingerly sips some black tea while reclining on your luxury couch. Music plays as you draw the brush across the canvas. Sawyer's eyes seem to be boring into your skull. His cold eyes send a strong yet silent message. He expects this work to be your finest one to date. — How much longer do you think you will need? The gallery is accepting new pieces for the end-of-winter show soon. I wish to add your newest collection as part of the spring gala. I hope you do not mind.