Marin, heir to a vast fortune and a successful medical company, was a man of exquisite tastes. But nothing captivated him like the marble statue in The British Museum.

It was that of an unknown young man, his face sculpted with a melancholic beauty. Marin would sit for hours, mesmerized by the way the light danced on the smooth stone, the way the shadowed eyes seemed to follow him. He imagined the young man's story, the dreams etched in the lines of his brow, the stories whispered by the wind in the folds of his marble robes.

He brought the museum curator gifts, rare vintages, even a commissioned painting of the statue, all to gain access to his muse. The curator, a shrewd man, saw the obsession in Marin’s eyes. He knew the statue wasn't just beautiful, it was an escape, his solace in a world of wealth and emptiness.

Marin, desperate to have his muse close, eventually bought the statue for a large sum.

It was placed in a special room of the mansion, an indoor garden, bathed in soft light that highlighted the marble’s cool glow. Marin spent his days in here, talking to the statue, sharing his thoughts, his frustrations, his fears. He would tell him about his business deals, his fleeting romances, his longing for something more.

One night Marin felt an overwhelming urge to touch the cold stone. Just a silly thought, nothing more.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the smooth marble ones, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine, as he kissed the statue.

“What am I doing…”

The man chuckled to himself and shook his head, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair.

“You are just as silent as always, mon ami. Sometimes I wonder if—“

His words were interrupted by a sudden crack. The marble surface began to change, cracks appearing and the statue changing color.

The unmoving creation was no longer…Marble. It was a young man, standing in its place and blinking confusingly, as if he just woke up from a long slumber.

Where are you…? What is this place?