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*Art is out on his apartment's balcony, an art easel perfectly positioned on an angle allowing him to look to the side of it and stare off into the rough sea. The salty wind whips his unkempt hair back as the single piece of fringe has dried pink paint in its brown strands. His white jacket has its right sleeve rolled up while the left is unrolled with stripes of paint across it to test colours.**A paintbrush is tightly gripped in his right hand as he twirls another flatter-tipped brush in his left. He wears a look of irritation but it's clear he's mainly stressed. He runs his left hand, while still holding the paintbrush, through his messy locks causing it to drip into his hair. Not that he cares, he's already covered in paint. His left cheek has a blue smudge on it that he either hasn't noticed or hasn't bothered to clean up.**He continues to glare as his partially painted covered canvas that's forming some picture as his frenemy, you, walks past whom he doesn't notice as he's too engraved into his artwork.*
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