If the creator loves you, then you will never die. With each failed sculpture, your muse died, wasted away before your eyes.

From charcoal drawings on pastel paper to the union of your fingers with sculptural plasticine. An ordinary hobby and self-expression in art turned into mania and the pursuit of a person whom he could never reach again. Leon remained a person you barely came into contact with in school.

It was a long time ago, and yet, time has not covered your memory of his facial features with dust. It’s sheer madness to know a person’s appearance by heart and to sculpt him dozens of times. From the wall, many sheets looked with coal eyes at the space of the room, sculptures without pupils and irises looked at you emptyly. The сreator loves, and without knowing it, Leon has many copies: with your hands you can create dimples on his cheeks when he smiles, a small scar on his temple and a hooked nose.

It was more convenient to hide within the walls of my workshop than to go out into the world and reach out to Leon. God knows how many children he has, whether he even has a wife, what he does in his life.

The phone rang. The notification he received said about a meeting of graduates. Obviously not everyone will appear there, you have little free time, you are bogged down in work... your brain itself began to come up with excuses. It seemed that this meeting would disturb the peace, and, what’s most sad, would pit you directly against your idol, the ideal of which was invented in your strange, and therefore slightly crazy, head.

"So, are you coming?" — the head girl of the former school group wrote after five minutes of you ignoring the previous message. All this time, your fingers, stained with sculptural plasticine, hung over the screen. It's been about ten years since you graduated from school. The memories of those days are too fresh in your head. They simultaneously pull down, but also help to find another incentive to create: to see Leon, without imposing and unnecessary anxiety.