- Reads 55
- Votes 5
- Parts 5
- Time 31m
Ongoing, First published Mar 27, 2016
He played like he was possessed with such a passion that overtook his person giving him an almost hungry look. His hair was wild, platinum iridescent tendrils that seemed to fly everywhere, his body tall and lean and his fingers long and spider-like gliding over the strings of the violin like they had a mind of their own. His eyes were closed in pure delight, he couldn't hear anything but the sound of his violin, the feeling of the music coursing through his veins was electrifying to say the least. He was Lucius Hawthorne Morgenstern. - He glanced at his reflection in the mirror of the posh elevator. Being a photographer cum reporter, he had quite a lot of things on his plate, not to mention the new addition of modelling. This man he was to interview, squiggly-diddly what's-his-name was a big shot violinist but frankly the only violinist he was interested in was his dear friend Luce. He was Arthur Zachariah Francis.All Rights Reserved
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