<span style="font-family: 'Georgia'">Unaware of the significance of the man he'd just spoken to, Theo continued on his way, his mind preoccupied with how he was going to fill the rest of his day. The anniversary of his parent's death was one of the few days where he wasn't busy, or trying to find a moment of breathing room. It was the one day he truly had to himself, and under no circumstances--short of a life or death situation--was he to be bothered. He silenced his phone, and only in recent years had he stopped being a shut away. <br/>
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Where he would normally spend the day wallowing in misery, and a gut wrenching grief that still hadn't gotten any easier with the years, he'd recently forced himself to nip the-feeling-sorry-for-myself-act in the bud. One of which was buying a ridiculous number of flowers and scattering the petals on the wind. He'd moved around a lot since that time and was hundreds of miles away from where his parents had been buried, so this was his way of commemorating their memory. Yes, he had the money to buy plane ticket to his home town. But still hadn’t managed to work up the nerve to revisit that place. <br/>
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Life before the Danvers had been a tumultuous time for a young Theodore, and he had long given up hope of ever having a family when the Danvers came along. It'd been a dream come true. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, he’d had a little brother and a playmate. <br/>
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All of which had been brutally torn away from him. Theo had drifted lost and in a chronic state of grief ever since. He'd discovered his gift in the the arts along the way. Painting became his solace. His escape. He poured his heart and soul into his work; used his brush to breathe life into every canvas he touched.<br/>
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Discovering his almost other-worldly ability to evoke visceral reactions in people with his work, Theo monetized on it. Turned his hobby into a career; which turned out to be a lucrative one. He'd gained a large following over the years, had even discovered a few close friends along the way, and yet there was still a gaping hole in his chest that no amount of money, sex, or fame could fill. It was the unfortunate reality of his existence. But instead of allowing it to dictate his life, he used it to his advantage. <br/>
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Reaching 'Fercaster Park' Theo turned left on the stone path, passing scattered rows of benches shadowed beneath large thickets of trees. Starting out at a leisurely pace he gradually fell into a brisk walk, warming up cold muscles before speeding up to a steady jog. The morning whistling  of the song birds, the soft rustling of leaves on the brisk breeze, and the creaking of branches became the tune that that he ran to. Letting the stress, worry, and constant pain take a back seat for the time being.</span>