She was gorgeous, from the day you first saw her to this very moment she had become your muse, your muse, your obsession. Every painting, every drawing, every line, and brush stroke was done with the idea of her essence. You never spoke to her. Hell, you never saw her outside of the subway, but you still managed to make an entire exhibit off her. There she stood on your opening night staring at a painting that looked strikingly like her. "Excuse me.. do you know who the artist is?" She asked.