He politely refuses, but I am ever insistent as I tell the driver my destination. Speeding away from the curb, the driver turns down a dimly lit stree.... I am thankful for the darkness, for now I can hide in the sanctuary of that darkness. The driver makes another turn, and we are cast out into the bright lights of Broadway and Time Square. I watch out my window as the blur of people rush by. I pray we get to the hotel soon before my emotions overcome me. The driver pulls up in front of my. " Nobu replied."I don't want dinner." The longer you mess with it, the more you're gonna mess it up." He pointed out. "You know that."I sighed. He was right. I knew that."Are you gonna tell me the real deal, ever?" I'm an artist. We're temperamental." Wow. That's not even creative bullshit. No points for style."I had to smile; it was a rather dumb thing to say to the boy who writes symphonies. "I'm in an artistically dark phase marked by irrational mood swings." Like 'Set once a month." He. More

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