Prologue: Sky
"Mother? Why isn't the night sky all stars? The black parts scare me."
"My dear boy, if the sky had not darkness at all, the stars wouldn't shine as bright, if not at all. Then you'd be scared of the light."
"Go to sleep my dear, tomorrow awaits more challenges than today."
Sure enough, the student up front raised his hand to answer the next question.
"Maybe we should let another student participate Mr. Paluteno." Professor Rems points towards my seat with great disdain.
"Mr. Du Morgana." He almost chides.
I stand up abruptly from my seat.
"Picasso." I respond in a regal tone.
"That's right, the painting of Le Coq was done by Pablo Picasso, one of the most known painters of all history. Good job, points for you sir."
My name is Franco Du Morgana. I'm 20 years old, rich kid, have a Havana Brown cat named Bobo. I'm an aspiring artist too, not that I'm very good at painting. Virtues are earned after all. I always knew I was different, ever since I was a kid. I was always sick and weak. The most noticeable part of my margin against normal homosapiens is my hair. It's pink. The doctors say it's because of lack of firm pigmentation, and others say it's part of my sickness. However, for what it concerns my classmates and professors, I painted it, and I am a "Pastel Goth". Cliché, I know huh. The rebel child.
I consider myself a rather studious fellow. My main goal is to become as famous and well known as my parents. My secondary goal, is to fit in, though it should be my first goal. However the case, my priorities are set, and nothing can change that.
But I never said no one could change that.