The world was a grating place. Imperfect and irritating. Every single day was a trial for Paul. He didnt know what was worse. His clients, the gaggle of 'artists' with their over inflated but tremendously delicate egos, producing nothing but trash hardly worth the materials they used. Or the buyers, the insipid, inbred, blue blooded elites that wouldnt know good taste if it bludgeoned them to death.<br/><br/>Paul knew he was more a conman than a proprietor of the arts these days. The true arts, not the aggrandized filth that he peddled. They were fads, not movements. Repetitive, derivative tripe that revolutionized nothing and no one and made no impact on the world other than to produce more pretentious imbeciles. His artists were little more than monkeys flinging their feces at canvas, and not a single person disagreed when he held it up and pronounced it as "Art".<br/><br/>Eddy had been Paul's saving grace. One of the only ones that had possessed true talent and vision and<i>consistency. </i>Managing Eddy wasnt exactly a dream but Paul could look at what the man created and be proud. He could point and say 'yes, now that,<i>that </i>is art!'<br/><br/>Fitting that like all geniuses, Eddy's career ended in tragedy. Without him, Paul was having difficulty justifying his own career as every painting and statue was just another disappointment.<br/><br/>But here, in Gabriel's room, Paul could forget such troubles. Here, nothing mattered except for Gabriel and his beauty, his obedience, his perfection.<i>He</i>was art, too. Paul's private collection, meant for his eyes alone.<br/><br/>Paul let his hand run through Gabriel's hair, the sensation of his fingers slipping along the fine white strands centering him better than any meditation. He sighed in satisfaction before roughly grabbing a fistful and yanking back Gabriel's head so Paul could look into the enchanting green eyes that he had missed dearly.<br/><br/>"It will be better once you disrobe," Paul murmured. Disrobe but not strip completely. Paul has seen Gabriel enough to recognize when he was wearing something delicious beneath his clothes, something tight and cinching.<br/><br/>Paul wanted to see it, desperately, but he affected calm as he released Gabriel and took a seat on his favorite armchair. He folded one leg over the other and waited expectantly for Gabriel to begin.