Life had brought him to a crossroad. Well, perhaps it was more like a roundabout with five or six exits, and he was stuck in the wrong lane. Because every time his arrogance had brought him to a fork in the road, he had chosen to keep going straight. Francis had made his own path. He had done things his own way. But the sensational operatic baritone had fallen from grace. Now he sat in a small studio flat, constantly itching the sore that was festering where his foot used to be.
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