Tokyo SymphonyChapter 3
Terry couldn't draw. Every time he tried to the blank page stared back at him, virgin white, and all he could think about was whether Mika would call him. When he had met her, he had experienced a huge spurt of creative energy, and now that she was gone the well was dry. Terry guessed that maybe all that shit about muses was right after all. He drifted through the next day, pacing around his room like he was going somewhere, continuing his diet of instant noodles, deflecting Naomichi's...