What a pitiful sight, a man, Ezra, alone in his room with a statue created by him. It stood tall, the man of his dreams made of marble and passion, though no stone can form a heart. Ezra stood with fingers curled on his face, blushing at his most prized work: “Calvin.” With a few brushes and sweeps, Ezra had finished him, and was now prepared to go to sleep. He lied on his unmade bed while images of the marble man crossed his mind. He finally had the perfect statue. Calvin stood in the living area atop a stout, mahogany pedastal. His face was adorned with a purple and black mask. Masquerades were among Ezra’s favorite events, enticing him to meet strangers he knew nothing about. He would often fall for anyone who would speak with him, even if just for a moment, but a moment could last an eternity in his mind. Each of these people were imprinted on the mind of Ezra, staining his memory with the sweet melodies of conversation. They were all his muse. As night passed, dawn broke and woke a now-confident Ezra. He sprung up from his bed and started towards his living area with a bounce in each step. A grin crawled up his face as his eyes locked on his masked masterpiece. It was gorgeous. Flawless. Ezra walked past Calvin’s left and studied what he called his work station. A white tarp stained with multi-colored paints rested over a torn satin loveseat. In front of it was a scuffed coffee table with detritus, sketches, and his phone. Ezra let out a sigh and rolled his eyes before grabbing his phone, pulling up the camera. As he directed his phone towards Calvin, he noticed… more. Calvin was beyond flawless. It was as if someone had dipped themselves in paint and was standing on the podium themselves. Every crease of the skin, every fiber of hair, and every groove in his toga looked as if they were ready to move. It seemed so real. A tear rolled down Ezra’s face as he snapped the perfect shot. He immediately sent the photo to Darius, a friend who was expecting a glorius piece of art and nothing less. Without a moment’s notice, Ezra received a call from his good pal. “Hey Dar-“ “What the hell is this, Ezra?” Darius shouted. “My exhibit is tomorrow, do you expect me to put that in it?” Ezra raised his eyebrow as he replied, “What do you mean? I worked hard on it, put my blood, sweat, and tears into it.” “Are you kidding?” Darius sighed. “I understand your breakup with Alex was hard, and maybe that just comes out in your art, but this is my life you’re playing with. This event is classy, but his mask… it is just far too vulgar.” “Calvin is so much more than just the mask, Darius! Please, just let me display my work. This is my life too. I’ll remove the mask!” “Calvin is nothing without the mask, Ezra. I’m sorry. Unless you can show me something new in the next three hours, I’m giving your spot to someone else. I hope you can do it.” “Please. I can-“ Three beeps sounded. Ezra tossed his phone at the loveseat and buried his face into his hands, moving them up his face and through his hair with a heavy sigh. It’s a tough blow when a friend doesn’t respect your endeavors, but Ezra wanted nothing more than to please Darius. He needed to fix Calvin. It was the only way. “C’mon Calvin. It’s time to ditch the mask.” Ezra moved the back string over Calvin’s head, removing the mask from his face, throwing it on the pedastal, and revealing an impurity… Calvin had no eyes. A redness flushed over Ezra’s face as he stomped to grab his chisel and mallet, setting the chisel on Calvin’s face. With a swift motion, Ezra brought the mallet to the chisel, causing a large fracture to sprint down to Calvin’s jaw. “No… Oh god, please no.” Ezra dropped the tools, the vibrations causing the crack to reach Calvin’s neck. He ran to grab an adhesive, each stomp on the wood floor splintering the crack and exacerbating the existing ones. Returning to Calvin, he noticed the cracks had reached nearly all parts of the torso. “Please don’t do this to me Calvin. I’m begging you, I can’t lose you too.” Ezra’s shaky hand reached towards the beginning of the first crack with the adhesive, while his other hand grabbed the side of his face for stability. As the adhesive made contact with the fracture, a crack split off from it, reaching towards Ezra’s thumb. With an adjustment of the stable hand, Ezra sliced his finger and retracted his thumb, while the palm made a quick impact with Calvin’s face. That was it. As sure as waves are to crash on the shore, so too did Calvin on the floor. A broken dream and a shattered heart, among the rubble of him. Ezra, now broken just as Calvin was, got up and stumbled to the bathroom. Scrambling through the medicine cabinet, Ezra found a bandage, a perfect size for the cut. He stood at the mirror, looking into his blue, glossy eyes and wrapped the bandage around his thumb. A broken smile hugged his now soggy cheeks, as he took a deep breath and left the bathroom. Ezra returned to the podium, but there was no rubble. There was no Calvin. There was only the mask, untouched, and facing towards the ceiling. He grabbed the mask with both of his hands, walked over to the trash, and tossed it in. Calvin was never that perfect anyway.