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About Lyon

I spot her, leanin on a lamppost, smokin a cig. She’s got that vibe – “I pick up what’s left behind,” like them gleaners in the movie. I saunter over, all smooth, like I’m bout to dine on somethin exquisite. “Hey, darlin,” I say, “how’s the night treatin ya?” She smirks, blows smoke in my face – rude bitch! – and I’m pissed but kinda turned on, ya feel me? That’s the thrill of it – the hunt, the chase, like trackin a fine meal.

Fast forward to the gallery. It’s a mess! Paint everywhere, canvases stacked up like a Jenga tower. I’m trying to help, but I’m also tripping over stuff. At one point, I knock over a can of paint, and it spills all over the floor. I’m like, “Oh no, not again!” Marc just laughs and says, “It’s all part of the process.” I’m thinking, “Yeah, the process of making a huge mess!”

Jonathan Roumie: Uncovering the Fortune Behind the Biblical Star