So many things made sense now, only in light of this new information-- Eddy's apparent wealth, the awards Luke had seen but hadn't examined, the way Eddy had evaded Luke's questions the last time they'd been together and how he'd interrupted when Luke had asked Precious how they'd met...  His sketching, his laughter when Luke had brought up the statue in the first place... So many little things, all crashing together.<br/><br/>The boy just gazed at Eddy, wide-eyed and a bit starstruck-- Edwin Yeoman's work had come up in his art classes, the few he had taken while still in school; he had admired the man's work, thought it was beautiful and complicated and ingenius...  And he was sitting in front of the artist now, having a conversation.  Had done more than talk.  Loooots more.<br/><br/>Luke pushed his bangs back from his face, feeling much hotter than he did seconds ago, before all this knowledge.  He had so many questions, but he bit them back because really... none of them were any of his business.  Eddy, Edwin, whatever he wanted to be called; he had decided not to tell Luke who he was, had decided to separate himself from his fame, and there was surely a reason but it was not Luke's place to pry, even if he was terribly curious.<br/><br/>So he sat there quietly, mind racing, and finally cracked a crooked, awkward grin.  "Should I call you Mr. Yeoman, or is Eddy still ok...?"