“Shoulders up. I think I have a pretty good face.”

She was absolutely right. Every artist he knew had
their works idolized, framed under golden light. Well
Rapture was meant to be every man’s city, Perhaps
this artist would find herself up there one day. He 
moves to a nearby bench, sitting down– posing–
so he could be drawn. Not before he fixed his coat
and straightened his tie.

“So… Have you been in Rapture long? Sometimes I feel like I’ve lived here all my life and sometimes it feels like I only moved here yesterday.”