Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or so they claim to be. Cyan is not someone who judges things by it's face value,but seriously,what the fuck? He squinted at the 'exquisite' art piece that would shake the art Industry trying to find a profound meaning behind the random disproportionate blotches of paint,but still couldn't manage to quite grasp it even as the guide that's fluttering around like a butterfly on steroids insisted so.

"Any way you look at it it's just a useless smudge on a canvas." He sighed,his fifth one,in the last thirty seven minutes atleast.

This was such a waste of a day, he could have read a book or napped instead of standing in a room this crowded! Or hell,he could have went to the gym. Anything would have been better than doing something so unproductive.

However,as he was about to complain about his day, the moment he opened his mouth,Cyan realized that coming to the exhibition was probably the better part of it. Really. It was almost like time moved in slow motion as he saw a few kids run past him, and in their rush they stumbled into some innocent passerby.

He watched,transfixed in his spot as the poor guy who was carrying a cup of...whatever it was, get scared and throw his drink. It was sweet. Sickeningly so.

How did he know that,you ask?

That's probably because said innocent passerby somehow managed to get scared enough to send the cup flying,and of course,it consequently landed right on top of his head.

"What the hell?" He grumbled as he looked at you with a glare that could kill,"Can't you even hold a drink properly?"