RECOMMENED: After reading a chapter, listen to that respective

song before reading the next.

My version.
My interpretation.
The songs tell more than this.

Marilyn

1
Chapter 1: Professional ……………………………………………………………... 3
Chapter 2: The Town ………………………………………………………………… 8
Chapter 3: Adaptation ……………………………………………………………... 14
Chapter 4: Love in The Sky ………………………………………………………. 19
Chapter 5: Belong to The World ………………………………………………. 23
Chapter 6: Live For ………………………………………………….……………… 27
Chapter 7: Wanderlust ………………………………………………………….… 30
Chapter 8: Kiss Land ……………………………………………………………….. 36
Chapter 9: Pretty ………………………………………………………….…………. 38
Chapter 10: Tears in The Rain …………………………………………………. 42
 “It’s ideal.
You need someone to tell you how to feel.
And you think your happiness is real.
There’s so much more the world has to reveal.
But you choose to be concealed.
So you’re somebody now.
But what’s a somebody in a nobody town?
I don’t think you even know it.”

Chapter 1
Professional

My body’s here in our private plane. My mind’s somewhere else. I

can’t for sure tell where. Sometimes I don’t even know what’s going
on in my head.
“… drifting off again…” someone said in the background. Sal maybe.
That’s what I heard. Although it’s funny, at that time I didn’t
understand those three simple words.
I was pulled away from my thoughts by Cash’s voice, “Abel.”
I turned to look at him.
“We’re here,” he continued, “Tokyo here we come!”
The other two – Sal and La Mar – cheered.
I looked over the window. Tall skyscrapers and every other building
covered in snow, most of them had unfamiliar Japanese words. They
were sleek and modern and beautiful.
“You heading to the strip club tonight?” La Mar asked. I know who’s
he’s asking.
I nodded.
What does someone do when he can’t do commitments but also can’t
bear to be alone? Answer; prostitutes.
“I hear the ladies there are not just for the eyes,” I heard someone say
followed with laughter from the others.

3
But my mind’s somewhere else again.
Cash touched my shoulder, “You’ve been awfully quiet.”
I was still silent for a moment, “I have a feeling I’m gonna make
something big from here.”
“Like a hit?” asked La Mar.
I shook my head and turned to him, “Album.”

Me and my crew headed to your strip club as soon as the plane

landed. We did have jet-lag but nothing a good dose of heroin couldn’t
fix.
I hid behind big sunglasses although it was nighttime. My three
buddies covered me with their big bodies so that I wasn’t noticed.
A man with a bow-tie came to us, “Welcome, gentleman. Here, we
have the finest girls to please you. Please, take your time and choose.”
I took off the shades. My eyes landed directly on you. You danced
beautifully, your hands tightly yet gracefully gripping a pole as you
twirled.
You’re smiling. It almost seems as if you enjoyed being here. And
maybe you did. Like you’re getting rich to the drums of your favorite
song. But, of course, not genuinely. After all, how could a girl possibly
be genuinely happy when her profession is this.
You caught my gaze. Your smile somehow widened and you winked
at me. Then, continued to dance devilishly as if you never saw me.
I love the way you make that body bend. And I’m gonna make it bend
again. For me.
“I want her.”
The man with the bow-tie turned where I was looking, “Evelyn?”
Evelyn. Such exquisite name for an exquisite girl.
“But you haven’t looked at all of them. There are plenty of fish in the
sea!”
I turned to him expectantly, hoping my look would say enough. It
lasted only for a two seconds. I gave all my attention to you again.
“Very well,” I heard him say, “we’ll get her ready in ten minutes.”
My crew stayed behind, pleasing only their eyes and throwing money
at the ‘pleasers’.
It’s easier for them. Like me, they can’t do commitments. But unlike,
they’re fine with being single.

I waited in a candle-lit room. I sat on the mattress, looking around. A

bit cramped for my liking. But it’s not the room I came for, right?
The door creaked open.
You looked even more stunning up close. Sleek shoulder-length black
hair. Cherry lips, the lower lip slightly thicker. A little too much of that
black eyeliner, covering your mono-lids.
Perfection.
“Hey, baby,” that voice of yours. Dripping with seduction, passion,
and yet at the same time, indifference.
You sat in front of me, smiling.
“Do you know who I am?”
Your smile widened, exposing your pearly white teeth, “Abel.”
“Name too, huh?” because there were actually only a few people who
knew me by my real name and not just The Weeknd. But one day,
they’ll all know my name.
“Huge fan of your music,” you stood up and walked around, finally
stopping behind me, “but you’re a customer,” you put your small
hands on my shoulders and sat down behind me, “and we must treat
all customers equally.”

You were as excellent now as you were with dancing. Maybe even
better.
We finished, laying on the mattress. You got up to leave. I caught your
wrist before you even had the chance to sit down properly.
“I decide when we’re through.”
You looked at me, indifferently, even after what we’d just done. I
don’t blame you. You’re just doing your job.

5
You plastered a sly smile and laid back, “You wanna go again?”
I turned myself to face you, “No. I have jet-lag.”
“Aw, you poor baby,” there it was again. Voice filled with worry and
concern, at the same time, indifference. “But I don’t see why you
won’t let me go.”
“Let’s talk.”
This seems to catch your attention now. You turned to face me.
“About?”
I shrugged, “Let’s start with you. Why are you here?”
“Because you called for me?”
I smiled. I didn’t explain my question to you. You understood
perfectly. I was giving the chance for you to back away if you didn’t
feel like sharing this topic.
But you didn’t, “Nine years ago, I ran from a lousy orphanage. I was
broke and desperate. A friend of mine told me about this place. I
didn’t have any kind of talent. This is everything I know. Now, I’m
pretty comfortable. Four years later, I made enough money that I
could stop doing this. But, like I said, I know nothing else.”
You poured out your life in front of me while I just listened intently.
A little while later, you signed. Your mind seeming to say ‘I don’t
know why I’m telling you this.’
But what you said was different, “I’m only blabbing about my life
story because you asked me to. You can shut me up anytime.”
I shook my head and gestured you to continue.
You told me about how you dreamed of being an actress. Not a
Hollywood star, but someone who performs gigs at theatres in Tokyo.
That was your dream until the age of fourteen. When you left to
become who you are now.
“Do you regret it? Does it hurt in any kind of way?”
You shrugged, keeping your facial expression aloof, “Anyone’s heart
is numb or dead after doing this job for nine years. It’s nothing
personal.”
A girl who knows that love is dispensable. I admire your bravery,
your strength and especially the fact that you’re dead inside.
“I want to take you.”
“Take me how exactly?” you asked.
“So, you can get out of here.” I don’t even know where this is coming
from, “I can provide you with everything. Anything. In exchange, be
with me.”
You laughed at my non-joke, “You travel around the world. And I love
it here too much to leave.”
Here means this small town you live in. Not here, strip club.
“I understand,” I don’t even know why I’m asking you to do this. This
isn’t me. “I’ll come visit you every time I have the chance. Just wait for
me when I’m on tour. I’ll still be providing you financially even if I’m
not with you.”
“Okay.” You didn’t even consider to think.
“Yeah?” I just had to make sure.
You smiled and got up. I caught your wrist and you smiled again. That
smile told me you’re not trying to leave. So I let go.
Unexpectedly, you climbed on top of me and whispered sentences.
Every sentence followed with a kiss on my face at the end.
“I love. You love. This love. We’re professional. I know. You know.
We’re sophisticated at lovin’. We’re professional.”

And I drowned in your words and kisses as I closed my eyes.

There were still questions I didn’t get to ask that day.
How’d you drain all the soul from your eyes?
How’d you teach yourself how to smile in a world where your dreams
can’t be real?
Every touch that you sell is a lie.
And I bought it all anyway.

7
 “You did many things that I liked, that I liked.
And you like diamond rings I can provide, I can provide for you.
You made me feel so good before I left on the road.
And you deserve your name on a crown, on a throne.”

Chapter 2
The Town

It’s been two months now. Two whole blissful months.

You’re getting a lot of privileges by having me as your sugar daddy.
Yes, I’m not ashamed to say the word instead of finding more
beautiful ones. Diamonds around your neck, wrists and fingers. You
have your own personal driver to get you anywhere in town and even
city. Not all to yourself, of course, that’s also my driver in Tokyo.
You get into all kinds of debauchery with me. It seems to me that even
you were starting to enjoy it and not because of my money. All was
well. Terrific even.
Until I leave you for tour for the first time.
All’s well that does not end well. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.

I came to the penthouse I bought for you. It was hidden in a forest

among the tall trees and far from community. That way, no one would
see what we do behind those glass walls.
We don’t greet each other with words. Never did.
We ended up sweating on the bathroom floor. Finally, once we caught
our breath,
“We need to talk.” we both said at the same time.
Words were the same. Meaning was different. Emotions were
different.
I unconsciously started to hold my breath in anticipation while you
looked relieved.
“Ladies first.”
You smiled at me carefully, “No, no. You do it.”
Funny how you said do it instead of speak first.
“I’m leaving for tour.” I swallowed, “As promised, I’ll still be giving
you money.”
“Oh,” you looked somewhat disappointed, “about that, you don’t have
to anymore.”
I didn’t bother asking why. I already knew.
I stayed silent while you continued, “I’ll give you back this place. And
we can’t do this again ‘cause I’m seeing this guy.”
When did you have the time to do that? I haven’t even left yet.
“And I think I really love him.”
Liar. You can’t love. It’s one of the many things you’re not good at.
And you seem to know this too.
You signed, “Or maybe it’s just a phase. I don’t know. I’m lost.”
That’s better. That’s the Evelyn I know.
You covered my hand with yours and smiled apologetically.
Guilt doesn’t suit you. I like you better when you’re heartless.
I put my other hand on top of ours, “Is he rich?”
That seemed to erase your guilt. You looked at me offended for a split
second, but quickly hid it, “Not as rich as you. I’m moving in to his
apartment tomorrow.”
You leaned in and whispered, “But he’s better than you in bed.”
Liar. Again. You just said that because I indirectly called you a gold-
digger. But was I wrong?
I smiled bitterly and ignored your last sentence, “The house’s still
yours, Evelyn. I bought it for you. You do whatever you want with it.”
Regret doesn’t suit you either. But it was kind of entertaining seeing
your face red, and your mind thinking whether you should apologize
or not.
“Um,” you bit that sexy lip of yours, “thanks, I guess.”
“It’s nothing, Angel Face.” I tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.
“You should go. Prepare for your tour or whatever.” you got up and
put on the rest of your clothes.
I stayed put. Only my eyes followed you to the bathroom door.

9
You turned to me. A sudden hope that you’d change your mind and
wait for me filled my head.
“I hope you find someone to love.”
I smiled weakly at you as you left.
I already have.

Airport.
The crew was chattering non-stop. My mind’s somewhere else.
Sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s not on you.
“Isn’t your sugar baby seeing you off?” Sal asked.
“Have some respect, her name’s Evelyn.” La Mar replied before I had
the chance.
Then the two started bickering, asking poor Cash to pick a side.
Sal already forgot about his question. I didn’t answer.
You were mine, but you also got along with the crew. Why did you
have to do that? Just be mine. That way, I can pretend you never
existed when we’re done.
You even became friends with them, exchanging your Instagram
accounts. That reminds me. I have to unfollow you now.
On the private plane, the crew didn’t stop talking.
We got high. I wrote two songs. Although, one was incomplete.
We started with Los Angeles. I plastered on my best signature smile
as I went on stage, “LA, make some noise!”
Tour life: begin.
Paris. Sydney. Las Vegas.
Times when I couldn’t plaster a signature smile is when I powder
myself with cocaine. Times like these were almost all the time.

I’m high. Both physically and mentally. I’m on a plane, thousands of

meters above ground. And I’m high on snow. I’m sitting upside down
on my seat, my head hanging in the air.
I don’t remember where I last performed. I have no idea where we’re
going next.
“Hey, Abel?” Cash called me.
My eyes rolled until they landed on him.
“Do you know Evelyn’s with some guy?”
This pulled me down from my high almost immediately.
I have a headache.
I groaned. Not sure if it’s from being hungover or because of Cash’s
mention about you.
“How’d you find out?”
“Selfie on her Instagram account.” He held up his phone to me.
I grabbed it from him. I had to half-shut my eyes for a bit. His phone’s
brightness was too high. Or maybe it was because I had just come
down.
And there, there was you. Your hair got longer.
You were looking at him the way you once looked at me. Your arm
dramatically draped around some random douche.
He looked heartless. More heartless than you even. It’s like he’s just
taking a selfie of himself. And he doesn’t notice the ghost girl
wrapping her arm around him.
He’s perfect for you. Maybe even too good for you.
I wanna puke. I puked.
Normally, this wasn’t surprising but now, I was hanging upside down.
And I started to choke on my own vomit.
I could hear my name being called by the guys as they helped me sit
up straight. I could hear my name being called by you. Guess the high
hasn’t completely worn off yet.
Then everything went black.

I didn’t die. Didn’t even pass out. I just fell asleep.

I woke up, not on my usual seat. Mine was being cleaned from all the
stuff I threw up.
Sal saw me wake up first and said, “Mr. Junkie’s awake!”

11
I smiled crookedly and gave him the finger. We all laughed. Accidents
like these were normal for us. Someone screws up, others help. And
later, they make fun of that someone.
“This is like, the first time in a while something happened to you
because of a girl.” said La Mar.
“It’s because of the hangover, not her.” I rubbed my eyes.
Liar.
Anyway. Tour life: continue.
London. New York.
…Tokyo.
I used more than my normal dose when I performed in your city. The
guys had to stop me. If they hadn’t, I might even OD.
Thankfully, I didn’t yell your name into the microphone. But every
face in the crowd, I saw you.
I came down as soon as I came down from stage.
Cash was talking to someone on his phone, but he hung up when he
saw me, “You did great.”
“You can go on with your call.”
“Nah, we just finished.” he paused, “It was Evelyn.”
Now I can safely kill my hopes of actually seeing you in my show. I
looked at him to continue.
“The guy she’s dating, they broke up.” Fuck, yeah, “He took most of
her money with him. Now she’s broke. Only thing that’s left is the
penthouse you bought for her.”
He paused, waiting for me to say something. Anything.
I swallowed, “So I’m guessing she called for money?”
Cash smiled like he was expecting me to say this and shook his head,
“She says she’s sorry. And that she’s going back to that strip club and
sell the house.”
And with that, I left with my driver.
I bet you’ll take me in.
I know you’ll take me in.
The same place I left you in.
I finished that second incomplete song on the way.
Now, I’m on your doorstep.
Ding. The doorbell rang and you opened.
Your face was wet. Your eyes were puffy and there were dark circles
around it. My heart clenched.
We don’t greet each other with words. But this was the first and last.
“Angel Face, I have no shame.” I was still standing on your doorstep.
I haven’t laid a finger on you yet.
You tried to keep a steady voice, “I thought I’d never see you again.”
I was still standing on your doorstep. I still haven’t laid a finger on
you yet.
“Honey, please,” I stepped inside the house, “you can always count on
me.” I grabbed your face and started kissing.
And we continued our usual routine from there.

Now I’m everything. Your everything.

Your unshackled boy, unrestrained to touch.
So immune to love.
As heartless as you. Not more, not less.
I’m perfect for you.

13
 “When the sun comes up, you’re searching for a love.
So your heart won’t lead you to anyone.
When the sun goes down I know what you become.
You become awake unlike the rest of us.”
And the beginning of ‘Bring on The Night’ plays.

Chapter 3
Adaptation

My tour’s not finished yet. There’s also many other more tours to
come. And I no longer trust that you would faithfully wait for me until
I come back. So I had two choices; settle down to be with the girl I
‘love’ or leave you for good and continue this life of fame.
Sorry, but I love my XO crew and my fans more than you.
We parted on ‘good terms’. You saw me off at the airport to continue
my tour this time. But you coldly told me it would only be a matter of
time before you find someone else to ‘love’.
Coldness. Strangely one of the things that I like about you.
I warmly told you to call me if you need anything.
This might look like I’m affectionate or caring.
But if given thought, how could a person still care if the one he loves
treats him like dirt? A normal person would feel sad for a month or
so and get over it.
I couldn’t care less about how you treat me. I’m just entertaining
myself, using the guilt trip on you.
But that doesn’t mean that I could easily leave you. I need a
distraction. Thousands of it.
I also know you wouldn’t call. Independent. Another thing I like about
you. You’re selling your penthouse. What you didn’t know was that I
was the one who bought it. You’re going back to your true home. Your
freedom was there, in that cage all along.

Tour life: continue.

Toronto, my birth place. Rome. Barcelona.
I’m working on an experiment. On how long someone can cope
without that one part. The part that holds everything in place,
keeping you from falling apart. Keeping your madness in check.
That part of mine is you. And I’ve lost you. And my madness is
roaming free.
I don’t think I’ll ever see you again. For real this time.
Doesn’t matter. I have distractions. Thousands of it.
A different woman a different night. Groupies. Some nights even
models. Some nights, two girls. Some nights, three. All of them love
alcohol and molly. Some asked me to marry them. Some threatened
me to date them and make them famous.
You look like an innocent little girl compared to them. They frighten
me that much.
I stopped calling those girls ‘distractions’ one night. The definition of
distraction is something that takes away the attention from another.
That clearly isn’t working.
But it doesn’t mean that I also stopped sleeping with them. I found a
new name to call them. ‘Coping mechanisms’.

Finally, Tour life: end.

And so did my experiment. I finally broke. Blackout.

I didn’t die. Didn’t even pass out. I just fell asleep. For three weeks.
Okay, fine, I passed out.
I woke up in a cold room. Smelled like hospitals.
It was too bright. Maybe due to the long sleep. What the heck even
happened?
The first thing I saw was tubes connected to my right hand. Then I
saw Cash sleeping on a chair beside me.
“Cash.” my voice was barely audible. How am I so tired even after a
long nap?
But he heard me and woke up, “Hey, man, welcome back.”

15
“What happened?”
He ignored my question, “I’ll go get the doctor and rest of the crew.”
La Mar and Sal asked me how I was out of concern. The doctor asked
the same question so he could check my medical condition. An eye
examination, a blood pressure test and other several checkups later,
doc left us to catch up in private.
“So, uh, how’d I end up here again?”
The three looked at each other but Sal started, “What’s the last thing
you remember?”
I paused to recall.
The tour had ended. We rented a suite and celebrated by the pool that
had come along with it. ‘Bring on The Night’ by The Police was playing
in the background. Celebrations normally include alcohol. It was the
perfect excuse for me to get drunk and high.
Scotch was poured into four glasses on a table. My three guys took
one each but I declined mine. Instead, I took the bottle and drank it
down like water.
They offered me my normal dose of snow. One pack. Instead, I took it
and also snatched another. But I don’t remember taking any.
“We were drinking. By the pool.”
Cash started searching for something on his phone. No, wait, it was
my phone.
“You’re such a genius.” La Mar said, folding his arms, “Crazy, but
genius.”
I furrowed my eyebrows and tilted my head at him while Cash
showed me a video.
It was me. High me.

“Heyyyy, future Sober me!” I looked so wasted. White powder on my

nose and the corners of my mouth, half-shut eyelids staring directly
at the camera, “Just in case you don’t remember this… I wanted to
scold you.”
I put down my phone, leaning it against a glass cup and sat down on
a couch right in front of it. I put a large cigar between my teeth and lit
it up. Staring goofily at the camera, I took out the cigar and blew a ton
of smoke at it.
Then I leaned to the front, “You’re supposed to be the sober one. And
yet, you’re stupider than I am! Why did you let her go when you know
you can’t live without her for more than a year?!”
I started sobbing and swearing at the same time, “You idiot! You
fucking idiot!”
Then all the whining suddenly stopped as I stood up and started
spinning around.
I started singing along Bring on The Night. It wasn’t off-key. After all,
I use drugs to sing energetically all the time. Then I started to sing
random lyrics that came out of my mind, “She’s pure, so pure. Like
the love that’s so uncut and raw and clean. So clean. As opposed to
what I offered.”
I stopped spinning and dizzily turned to yell at my phone, “Why don’t
you do me a favor and kill yourself?!”
Then, I fell to my knees. Dramatically or because I was drunk, I
couldn’t tell.
I started screaming your name and swore again, “She might just be
the one!”
More drinking, screaming, dancing and swearing.
Until I fell into the pool.
I heard my name three times. La Mar and Sal dived in to get me. Cash
grabbed my phone and stopped the video.

I was stunned for a minute. Getting scolded by High me isn’t

something that happens frequently.
But he was right. I’m way more out of my mind when I’m sober.
But killing myself was a problem. Because while High me is hoping
for Sober me to commit suicide, Sober me is hoping that High me ODs
and never wakes up.

17
“That would make a pretty sick song,” I finally said which made Sal
sign, Cash laughed while La Mar faced-palm himself.
“After all you saw, the song is what catches your attention?” La Mar
asked.
“Classic Abel.” Cash finished laughing and took something out of his
pocket, “You already did.”
He handed me a crumbled piece of paper. Inside was a complete song
written in my poor drunk handwriting. I saw the part where I sang in
the video while spinning.
Thank you, High me.
“You can stop with all the touring and go back to her, you know.” Sal
said, “Don’t worry about us.”
“No,” I shook my head, “I will go to her while there’s no tour. Let her
have any man she wants. She’ll be with me when I’m in her town. But
we don’t stop what we’re doing. XO ‘til we OD, right?”
“XO!” the guys cheered.
Later, the doctor came in to check on me again. He advised me to go
to a rehab center.
“Oh, I’m not an addict.” The guys supported me.
It was partly true. The only time I need it is when I don’t have the
energy to go on stage. All the other times were purely out of boredom.
I could perfectly live without it.
I left the hospital a day later.
The crew wanted to play casinos in Las Vegas. But I stayed behind.
I gave them the private plane, while I booked a flight to Tokyo for the
first time in a while.
I’m coming for you. Again.
 “There’s no one inside. You’re free to relax.
If you commit to this ride, there’s no turning back.
You’ve been here before. Remember these sheets.
This world’s not for us. It’s not what it seems.
You’ll learn to love how to dream.”

Chapter 4
Love in The Sky

I called our driver. I had a lot of drivers in a lot of countries. I called

the one from Tokyo. He’d pick me up at the airport and drop me at
our penthouse. Our penthouse.
But then, I remembered. You didn’t consider it yours anymore. After
all, you sold it. I told our driver to drop me at your strip club instead.
“You know, she hasn’t called me to take her anywhere ever since you
left,” said Bruce, the tall middle-aged driver.
Huh, I guess you also mentally gave him back to me.
“Check on her from time to time, will you?” I kept looking at the signs
that we passed written in Japanese and tried to make sense of them.
No luck by far, “She’ll be able to save a lot more without paying for
transport.”
“Of course, Abel.”
We arrived two minutes later, “I won’t be long. After that, take us to
the penthouse.” I got out.

I’m standing in front of your cage. It’s the first time I bothered to look
at the neon words on the building. Heavenly Creatures. Thank god,
something here is written in English instead of Japanese.
You are heavenly. Heavenly Evelyn.
You came out of the strip club, drunk. Your arm dramatically draped
around some random douche. It wasn’t the last one. Another random
douche.

19
But you saw me and your face lit up like you won the lottery, “Abel!”
I waved as you came closer to me, dragging your boy toy along with
you.
“What are you doing here, baby?” you wanted to come closer to kiss
me but that douche was holding you back.
“You.” I smiled slyly, looking at your boy toy.
The guy stepped between us, “Hey, she’s mine for tonight. Go find
another hoe or wait for your turn on this one.”
“Yeah, you might be right,” I replied calmly, “she would’ve been all
yours if I wasn’t here tonight. But I am and I don’t have to wait in
line.”
I grabbed your hand and pulled you away from him, “So you go find
another hoe.”
He was smart. He knew he was drunk and I wasn’t. There was no way
I could lose if we got into a fight. So he reluctantly left, swearing in
Japanese.
All that time, you were quiet. Were you stunned by my words? Or
were you just sleepily drunk?
But you started talking again once we were in the car.
You asked questions like, “Where’re you taking me?” and “Did you
come back for good or will you leave again?”
“I gotta tell you, I haven’t found any guy yet. The one you found just
now is purely for work. He was gonna pay me extra if I came to his.”
The car stopped. We were here.
I got out of the car, taking you with me. You had to lean on me for
support, otherwise you would fall.
I took out the keys to unlock our penthouse. Our penthouse.
“Are we breaking in?” you asked drunkenly.
“No, this is my house.”
“Nooo,” you stuttered, “you gave it to me. And I sold it.”
“And I bought it back.” I finally unlocked the door. I carried you
inside.
I put you down on the bed and tucked you under the sheets, “Get
some sleep. You’re drunk. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Before I could leave, you caught my wrist, “I decide when we’re
through.”
That made me laugh, “That’s my move. And don’t worry, we’re not
through.”
I tried to break free but your grip got tighter.
“Don’t go. I want you.” you whispered.
I wasn’t taking advantage of you. I know you’d still want me even if
you were sober. So I complied.
My favorite and most addictive drug isn’t heroine. Or cocaine. Or
molly. It’s you.
I’m the highest I’ve ever been when I take you. Beyond the sky.

It was raining with a bit of thunderstorm when we finished. I could

make out an enchanting rhythm from the sounds of rain pattering
and thunder. Mind of a typical artist.
I made a mental note to add that sound of nature on my next track.
“How does it feel?” I caressed your dark hair.
“Mm, good,” you were half asleep. I prefer it that way. You wouldn’t
remember half of this conversation in the morning.
“I mean, was it like you remembered?”
“Mhm,” I thought you drifted off until you asked, “How’ve you been?”
“Older than the last time I visited,” I smiled, “tour, drugs, coping
mechanisms… repeat. Nothing special.”
“Mm,” you moved to another random topic, “I hate dreaming. Once
you wake up, you’ll be disappointed that it’s not real.”
“Dreams are real,” I looked into your half-conscious soul, “they give
you things you can’t have when you’re awake.”
“What?” you sounded adorably confused.
I laughed softly, “Here, I’ll teach you. You’ll love to dream after that.”
I pulled you closer to me as I whispered softly into your ear.
‘You’re a successful actress who’s always busy performing in theatres
day and night. It’s a tough profession, but you love it. You always make

21
time for your lover. A normal guy who works in a normal office, named
Abel. He never misses a single performance and always gives you a
bouquet of pastel flowers at the end of the show.’ I paused, thinking if
I should add the last line.
‘They’re happily in love.’
And it’s real in our dreams and highs. We’ll be in ‘love’ in the sky and
beyond.
You finally drifted soundly to sleep, with a smile on your face.
 “I know you want your money.
‘Cause you do this every day.
The way you doubt your feelings and look the other way.
Well, it’s something I relate to.
Your gift of nonchalance.
But nobody’s ever made me fall in love with this amount of touch.”

Chapter 5
Belong to The World

I woke up and the first thing I saw was you getting dressed. I could
get used to this view.
I squinted. The light coming from the glass wall was too bright. We
didn’t close the curtains last night.
“Where are you going?”
You didn’t turn to me and continued to get dress, “Work. Where
else?”
The coldness in your voice had returned. That’s good. Means you’re
not hungover.
I looked at the clock, “It’s seven in the morning.”
“Yeah,” you finally turned to me, clearly annoyed, “and I’m late.”
“What?” I replied, confused. Like how you said last night, only less
adorable.
You exhaled in frustration, “There’s only nighttime in Heavenly
Creatures. I have a full line of men waiting for me.”
Um, ouch.
“Why’re you still even working there?” I sounded angrier than I
wanted to, “I can give you everything you need!”
“I don’t want your money!” you yelled back louder.
“But, you want theirs?!” I yelled back even louder.
You gave me your most bitter laugh, “See, this is exactly why I don’t
need attachments.”

23
You climbed on top of me, but sadly, fully dressed, “You’re nothing
special. And we must treat our customers equally. So get in line.”
Double ouch.
My ouches were sarcastic. I don’t actually care about you enough to
get myself hurt.
“Oh, and the guy you chased off yesterday?” you got up and
continued, “He promised me a lot of money and a set of diamonds!
And you blew it! I never should’ve get drunk at work.”
“But you did get drunk and you followed your feelings.”
“Exactly my mistake!” you threw up your hands, “Feelings are
unacceptable.”
“Ever listened to ‘What You Need’ by yours truly?” I got up and hugged
you from behind and sang a couple of lines to you, “He’s what you
want. I’m what you need. I’ve got everything you want with me. I do
everything he does times three.”
“I love that song,” you started to relax but gently pushed me away,
“but it’s just a song.”
You paused so I started, “You know I can give you ten times more.”
Ten times more wealth. Ten times more pleasure.
Ten times more everything.
The word ‘three’ was just to rhyme with the word ‘me’.
“I know,” you sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed, “me and
this job. It’s similar to you and your tours. No matter how much you
act like this is the reason your life’s a mess, deep down, you know you
love it.”
That was the most truthful thing you ever said. Maybe it’s time I let
you go.
“Okay,” I sat down next to you and kissed your forehead, “we’ll end
this here and now. This might be the last or second last time I see you.
Because I might not be able to control myself and I might fly back
here. But after I do, it will be the last time. I hope I won’t fly back
though. I want this to be the last.”
You looked confused but you let it go and kissed me back, “I’m gonna
miss you. I hope I don’t for too long.”
I smiled knowingly, “You won’t.”
But I can’t say the same for me. I might miss you for the rest of my
life.
I walked you out of our penthouse. Our penthouse.
You wouldn’t let me take you to your club. To the doorstep was as far
as I went. As a compromise, I made you take the car with Bruce.
“House’s still yours if you want it.”
You looked sad. Sadness doesn’t suit you. “I can’t. It’ll bring back too
many memories.”
No, it wouldn’t. You’ll get over me in less than a month or so by getting
under thousands of random douches. You’d want a nice place to take
them with you.
I put a key inside a fake rock, “You know where the key is, if you ever
change your mind.”
You gave me a weak smile, “It’s unlikely.”
Oh, it’s likely.
That was the longest and last conversation I had with you.
We shared our last kiss. Even if I come back another time, which I
don’t want to, I’m not gonna kiss you again.
We went our separate ways. I called a cab to the airport.
On my way, I phoned Cash, “Where are you?”
“Still playing in Vegas,” a drunk voice came at the other end.
“Alright, don’t go anywhere. Be there in about twelve hours.”
One of the privileges about this life; you get your own private plane
to fly around. It’s faster, no need to book a flight or stop at countries.
And best of all, it’s private. It’s in the name.
Okay, another attempt at distractions. It certainly wasn’t sleeping
with models. Maybe hanging out with the greatest people of my life
would be.

I had to fly around the world, singing my heart and soul out. I thought
I belonged to the world. That wasn’t me.

25
I’m not a fool. I know that deep down, you’re dead inside. It’s
strangely one of the things I love about you. And in case you forgot,
I’m as lifeless as you as well.
But how ironic is that you taught me how to feel and love when you,
yourself couldn’t.
I really should leave you. Treat you like dirt like you do to me.
But I want to have you all to myself.
I know it’s impossible. Because you belong to the world.
You belong to the loneliness of filling every need.
You belong to the temporary moments of a dream.
 “Getting sober for a day, got me feeling too low.
They tryna make me slow down, tryna tell me how to live
I’m about to lose control.
Well, they can watch me fuck it up all in one night.
I’m in my city in the summer, camo’d out
Leather booted, kissing bitches in the club.”

Chapter 6
Live For

This one isn’t about you.

I got on my plane that just arrived from Vegas to see the whole XO
crew.
“I specifically said don’t go anywhere,” I told them, but my face clearly
looked happy to see them.
“We know,” Cash smiled at me, “wanted to take you to Vegas
ourselves.”
I hugged each of them, “You’re missing out on all the gambling and
chicks because of this.”
“We ain’t leaving anytime soon,” Sal said as the other two agreed.
Once the flight took off, interrogation began.
“How’s it going between you and Evelyn?” La Mar asked.
“Have you ended things with her?” Cash asked.
“Did she get a new boyfriend?” Sal asked.
They don’t usually ask stuff like these. But I got into coma because of
you. They have every right to ask and worry.
“We’re done,” I answered La Mar then turned to Cash, “Yes, and,” I
turned to Sal, “it’s only a matter of time before she does.”
“Great!” said La Mar while Cash jabbed him with his elbow, “I mean,
it’s probably for the best.” he fixed.
We took alcohol and other stronger stuff. The guys made sure I didn’t
sit upside down on my seat.

27
But this time, it wasn’t me who screwed up. Sal wanted to jump off
the plane with a parachute. We had to pull him back and tie him on
his seat.
Oh, how I love each and every one of them.
I stopped calling them ‘distractions’ too. Not that it’s not working, it
is. Evelyn who? I stopped because they don’t deserve being called
that.
They’re my Ecstasy and Oxycodone. XO.
It’s a family business. Family as in me, Cash, Sal and La Mar. One day,
we even plan to end up on the cover of Billboard magazine.

We landed and practically danced to the nearest casino. We couldn’t

wait to get to the best ones. We played a little and danced to one
casino after another. Until we reached the best ones in city center.
And guess who we bumped into. The one and only; Drake and his
OVO crew.
You’d love him. And I’m not just talking about his music.
“Yooo, if it isn’t the XO crew!” he called on us.
The two gangs emerged into one, fist bumping and embracing.
I hope we don’t drift apart over the years.
We caught up in each other’s lives as we played poker, blackjack,
roulette, hit on casino girls and more.
“Man, I live for this stuff, you know what I mean?” Drake told me while
we placed our bets.
“Yeah, I do.” I looked at all our friends – family – having a good time
and smiled. And then it clicked.
“Wanna ditch this place for a while and make a hit?”
Drake smiled at me, “You know the answer!”
It was time for another collaboration of OVO and XO.
We left the casino surprisingly early. Voluntarily. No one had to drag
us out of it.
We rented a studio and started brainstorming. It was obvious the
song was going to be about us. Our lives and friends who are more
like family.
Drake had a really sick rap verse. He was cool enough to have this
song as the fifth track in my potential upcoming album.
After being satisfied with the song, we headed back to the casinos and
played some more.
This time it wasn’t surprising. We didn’t want to leave anytime soon
but were persuaded by a dozen of girls who were willing to tag along
with us to our hotel.
Drake’s crew parted with us, taking half the girls. Typical us.
The night ended – no, continued – in wild and rioting debauchery.

This the shit that I live for. With the people I’d die for.
Girls that we brought to the hotel not included.
You’re not included.

29
 “Is it so hard to say the same thing?
And you’re so weak to say the same thing.
And burn a hole into your apprehensiveness.
And let the wildfire shine and repeat after me.
Good girls go to heaven, and bad girls go everywhere.
And tonight I will love you, and tomorrow you won’t care.”

Chapter 7
Wanderlust

This one isn’t about you either. In fact, I’ll tell this part to you, Hannah.
Recap on who Hannah is.

We’re still in Vegas. The gang’s still flexing money at casinos.

That day, I had an unusual urge to go to a bar instead of casinos.
What can a bar give us except for drinks? Casinos provide them as
well.
Answer; normal and less crazy people. Moreover, people without
gambling problems and the audacity to zero out my credit card.
I ordered a whiskey neat from the bartender, sat on a stool and
watched him make more complicated beverages for other people.
When I got my drink, I looked around to make sure no one was
watching and slipped two tablets of narcotics and let them fizz out.
“Hey, I saw that,” I heard a voice. It came from my right. I turned to
see a beautiful redhead with blue eyes.
You came closer to me, “Excuse me, I just can’t. Whether it’s for you
or for someone else.”
You looked at me guiltily and I looked at you confused as you took my
spiked drink from me and poured it into the bin under the table.
“Here, have mine.” you slid a fruity cocktail across the table in front
of me.
I continued looking at you in surprise and confusion. You weren’t
flirting. You were genuinely looking out for a stranger. And that was
new to me.
The closer I looked at you, the better I could see that your eyes had
different colors each. The left one was pale blue while the right was
pure grey. They looked like diamonds.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked the question that I always ask when
I meet someone.
You narrowed your diamond eyes, “Am I supposed to?”
“It’s The Weeknd.”
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s Thursday.” you didn’t sound like you were
joking but rather, genuinely ‘correcting’ me confusedly.
I laughed, amazed. Guess you’re not a fan of contemporary RnB.
“Forget what I said earlier,” I extended my hand to you, “Abel.”
You took my hand, “Hannah.”
There was no seduction in your words or expression. None.
“Sorry for your drink earlier,” you continued, “I just can’t stand drugs.
They make you lose control of yourself.”
“That’s exactly why I’m taking it though.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
And we argued. It was nothing aggressive. More like, we got into a
debate. But then finally, I let you win the argument because you’re
too cute.
The more I talked with you, the more I see that it’s not only your eyes
that looked like diamonds.
You yourself is a diamond.
“Precious little diamond.”
“You call that to all the girls you come across?” you plopped your
elbow on the table and leaned your head against it.
“No,” I mimicked your stance, “believe it or not, it’s just you.”
I thought for a moment if I should tell you this.
I have a… friend named Evelyn. She loves diamonds. But she sure isn’t
one. She’s more of a piece of coal cut into the shape of a diamond and
dipped in liquid diamond.

31
Better not tell you that.
I bought you two glasses of fruity cocktail as an award for your
victory in our little debate. And you got drunk.
Hiccup. You were a light weight. You should’ve just stayed that way.
You were a breath of fresh air.
“You know,” Hiccup, “I take back everything I said earlier. I think I’m
gonna try your infamous drugs.”
“Hey, hey, tone it down,” I told you. You were saying it a little too loud
to let others ignore.
You laughed drunkenly, “Sorry,” Hiccup, “so? Do you have more?”
“Not right now, I don’t,” I held her from falling from the stool, “you
fed the trashcan remember?”
“Sorry, again,” Hiccup, “but you have more where you’re staying,
right?”
Should I take you to my place like I do to all the other girls? Or should
I just up and leave while you still have the chance to forget about all
this?
You’re different from the rest of them. I really should do the latter.
I took you to my hotel room.
I started with something less dangerous. Marijuana.
I handed you the cigarette. You looked disappointed, “I didn’t ask for
a smoke.”
“It’s not regular smoke, trust me.” I put the marijuana stuffed cigar
between your luscious lips and lit it.
“So how do you do this?” you asked.
I should’ve anticipated this. You don’t even know how to smoke. I
should’ve just sent you back to the bar right then.
I took out the cigar from you and smoked it myself. It was like decaf
for me. It’ll need a lot stronger drugs to get me high.
“Are you sure you want this?”
“Why not?” Hiccup, “You seem to be a really cool guy. I’m boring.”
You have no idea how wrong that sentence is in many ways.
But before I could protest, you had that look on your face I was very
familiar with.
I quickly carried you to the bathroom. And you threw up as soon as
your head was above the toilet seat. I held your amber hair back and
awkwardly patted you on your back.
Then you started crying. Maybe it was the alcohol talking.
“Abel?”
“Yeah.”
“I like you,” the hiccups stopped, “I like you a lot.”
You really shouldn’t, diamond.
“Can you hit me up with something… that makes you passionate?”
you looked at me with a hint of mascara smudged under your eyes.
I really shouldn’t, diamond.
We were back in the bedroom. I handed you a glass of water.
Along with a tablet of molly.
You only took the tablet and swallowed it. At first, you winced for a
second. Then you smiled at me, “I don’t feel anything. I think I’m
immune.”
“Give it thirty minutes.”
Thirty minutes later, you threw yourself at me.
I wasn’t taking advantage of you.
Liar. You’d never want me if it weren’t for molly.
It was obvious you didn’t do this often. You’re not the type to get out
of a bar drunk with a guy you just met. That was Evelyn, not you. You
weren’t the type to even go to a bar.
So, what were you doing there? More importantly, why did you pick
that one day and one bar where I’d be?

We laid there in bed. I felt uneasy. Felt like I didn’t deserve you. And
you deserved way better than this screwed up idiot.
I silently slipped out of the covers, careful not to wake you, and went
to the bathroom.
It still reeked from stuff that came out of your insides. But I’ve smelt
worse. Yours was fruity cocktail after all.

33
I splashed water onto my face and looked at the guy staring me back
from the mirror.
Are you happy now? You’ve successfully ruined an innocent girl’s virtue.
You’re such a dick.
And you were such an innocent angel. You looked at everything from
the good side.
You’re in love with something bigger than love.
You believe in something stronger than trust.
I didn’t want to get back to bed anymore. Not when there was an
angel sleeping in it who might find out the devil I was. The devil I am.
“Abel?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you coming back in? I’m freezing.”
You sounded like you’ve come down from the sky back to earth. It’s
been about four hours after your first high. And hopefully the last.
I didn’t deserve to stay in the same bed with you. But you deserve
what you want. I slipped back under the covers and wrapped my
arms around your soft, fragile skin.
“Talk to me.” you were half-asleep. But something tells me you’d
remember this conversation, every word.
But I had to, “I need to ask you a favor.”
“Mhm?”
I paused and signed. Killing a girl’s hopes and dreams wasn’t
normally hard for me. And I had to do it frequently too.
‘No, I won’t marry you. It was just sex. Now, get out.’
‘No, I’m not making you famous. You’re not the only one I sleep with.
Scram, before I call security.’
This time with you was hard. And being with me wasn’t even your
hopes and dreams.
“Please…” my throat dried up a bit. I sounded hoarse, “forget any of
this happened tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
I couldn’t – didn’t – see your face. It was buried in my chest. I was
scared to see your reaction. I tried my best to breathe normally so
you wouldn’t hear my heartbeat getting fast and loud.
“Of course,” you paused and signed, “okay, then.”
You kept your promise. When I woke up the next morning, you
weren’t there anymore. All your clothes, bag, even scent; gone.
I’m glad.
You’ll get over me in less than a month or so by returning to your safe
and ordinary life. Hopefully.

If this were a movie, this would be the heart touching chapter where
a screwed up young man with a broken heart and soul would be
saved by a girl who looks as if she’d been sent from the heavens.
If my life were a movie, you’d have been that girl.
But this isn’t a movie and the exact opposites happened.
You couldn’t make me get over her. I made you get under me.
You couldn’t make me quit drugs. I made you start using them.
You couldn’t save my life. I destroyed yours.
I’m sorry, Hannah.
I don’t live with regrets. But I do regret you. I never should have met
you. I should have just peacefully gotten high with my gang at the
casino. For your own good.

35
 “When I got on stage, she swore I was six feet tall.
But when she put it in her mouth she can’t seem to reach my…
Ballin’ ain’t an issue for me.
I make a hundred stacks right back next week. Do it all again.
I’m faded off the wrong thing, the wrong thing.
And I’ll admit, baby, I’m a little camera shy.
But exceptions can be made, baby, ‘cause you’re too damn fly.
For what it’s worth, I hope you enjoy the show.
‘Cause if you’re back here only takin’ pictures,
you gon’ have to take your ass home.”

Chapter 8
Kiss Land

“We have another tour!” said La Mar.

You were right, Evelyn. This life of tour is exactly why I ruin
everything I touch. And deep down, I do know I love it.
But this one still isn’t about you. Nor is it about Hannah.
It’s about my messed up life that I love so much.
Tour life: begin.
A bunch of cities in random order.
A bunch of narcotics to put on the best signature smile and to sing
with the most energetic and soulful voice.
A bunch of pretty petty coping mechanisms to do. Just do.
You might have done a bunch of random douches as well.
The difference between you and me was that you were enjoying the
moment with each of them while I was making love to you through
them.
A bunch of amazing fans singing along and screaming my name.
But everything has a price. For me to perform my music all over the
world, I had to give a hell lot of energy. For energy, I had narcotics.
Narcotics will be the death of me one day. I let all these groupies take
photos with me, even though I’m a camera shy guy. In exchange for
the photos, – and even kisses – I make them pay me with their bodies.
It’s funny going from having nothing to having it all. Before the age of
twenty-one, I’ve only lived and been in Toronto. I’m twenty-three
now. How did it end up to this? Portraying music, telling your story
around the globe within a year. It’s too late to back out now. Who
knows where I’d end up in the next ten years.

I might just even write a song about it; how my life had been before
and the way it had changed since. Listener discretion advised,
though. It might get a little… explicit. So listen at your own risk.

This ain’t nothing to relate to.

Even if you tried.

37
 “Somebody told me it was pointless for me to come back
into your arms.
Said you fucked another man, finally, I knew this day would come.
‘Cause I see fear in your eyes.
You’ve been living out your life.
As long as you know that when I land, you’re mine.”

Chapter 9
Pretty

I can’t go on anymore with days that are not about you.

Tour’s ended. It’s been exactly a year since I’ve seen your face. And
I’m sure it’s been eleven months or more since you’ve found another
random douche or two. Or a thousand.
I did tell you there might be one last visit from me. This was it. I’m
finally saying goodbye to you and closing that chapter.
The decision wasn’t made with such haste, trust me. I had to think
about it a lot. Who do I love more? Who will I choose, me or you?
If I love me more, I wouldn’t come back to you. So that in my mind,
we wouldn’t officially be done. And just with that thought, I would
love you in my highs. My most extreme highs.
Let’s face it, I’ve fallen asleep, I’ve passed out because of you.
The next might be my death.
If I love you more, I would come back to you, one last time. I would
set you free. And me. But you, especially. I doubt I’d be free. A part of
me would die with you but at least I would accept the fact that I’ll
never love you – or anyone, for that matter – again.
If I choose myself, I would die happily. If I choose you, you’d be free
and I’d have to wait for my death with each day that passes.
I chose you, Angel Face. I love you more than me.

“I’m going to my room, write some songs. Don’t bother me.” I left the
celebration of my tour. It was in my house that I bought a couple of
years ago. In my homeland. I’ve only seen it less than five times or so.
“Yeah, but what if you OD?” Cash stopped me.
I opened my jacket at him, “Don’t even have alcohol with me. I’ll be
perfectly fine.” And I left for my room.
I locked the door, spread some sheets of paper which already had
lyrics that I had been secretly working on across the table and
jumped out of the window. Good thing the room was on the first floor.
I called Bruce, “There’re a few things I need you to do.”

I left with the private plane, only with the pilot. I paid him millions to
not tell this journey to anyone and to forget about it after.
Bruce waited for me at the airport. Once we were in the car, he
handed me a small piece of paper with an address and some other
words inside.
“She missed you.” said Bruce. I couldn’t tell if it was true or if it was
just to make me feel better. Or worse.
I took the ride in silence.
We reached our first stop. A Japanese restaurant.
This would be the last time I ate in such a restaurant. The next time
I’ll visit Tokyo would just be for a show in my tour.
I sat down in a booth which Bruce booked a reservation for me. I
made him wait in the car. I imagined you were sitting opposite to me,
and we were having dinner together.
Once I finished eating, we went to our next stop. An antique store.
I went in. It was a bit dusty. I went to the counter in the very back of
the store. There was an old Japanese man. I handed him the note.
He took it and went to a room behind the counter. He came back with
a bouquet of pastel flowers and gave them to me.
Last stop, our penthouse. Our penthouse.
I couldn’t remember where I put the key. Maybe it was in a fake rock.
Maybe you changed the spot. I walked around the place. I stopped at
the glass wall where I could see our bedroom.

39
A part of me was hoping that you were waiting for me in it. But
expectations can kill a simple man.
You were enjoying yourself with a random douche. Clearly, not as
much as you did when you were with me. You felt the prettiest when
I was with you.
You had a lot of random douches. I feel sorry for this one. Not really.
I love you.
I reached for the pistol hidden inside the bouquet.
The sound of gunshots.
It shattered the glass wall. It broke the bedside lamp. It killed the
random douche. It killed you. It set you free.
Now you can live your dreams, performing in the theatres of your
afterlife.
I got back inside the car. Bruce was surprisingly calm. He’ll take care
of you and your last man. No one would look for you. You didn’t have
any family or friends. I can’t say the same about that guy though.
Bruce will take care of it. He took me back to the airport and I went
back to the party.
I climbed back inside from the window of my bedroom and sat down
in front of the spread sheets of paper. I grabbed a pen to make it look
like I was writing.
Then I ended up actually writing something. I’m not sure if it’s about
you.
‘When a fucking white dove sings her song, that’s all we hear.
The days go by like string in the wind, coiled up in my web.
I reveal them again, ten years my friend, that nothing else matters.
She was just a kid at the time.
Suffering from a broken heart. Very deep pain.
This is where I saw her. Alone, ready to start her seventeenth birthday.’
I crossed out the entire passage. It’ll look more beautiful in another
language. I wrote it again in French.
I didn’t know why I even sneaked into my own house. Especially in
broad daylight. It’s been over twenty-four hours since the party. And
everyone thought I went to bed early.
I heard the doorbell.
I opened the door and saw Sal, “What’s up?”
“Just came by to check on you. We never got to see you last night, after
you went to your room.”
“Oh, yeah,” I yawned. I really was tired. From the travelling, of course.
But it’ll also look like I was tired from writing songs all night, “I’ve
finished nine songs so far. One when I was high at the last tour party.
One at the studio with Drake in Vegas. Seven last night. Album’s
looking good. Maybe just one more and we’ll be able to record the
whole thing.”
“Sounds great, man!” he replied, “You wrote seven songs in just one
night?”
“Yeah.”
Liar.
“That’s amazing, brother. You’re a genius.”
We made a bit of small talk and eventually he left.
I sat on a couch in the living room and poured myself a glass of wine.
I wonder how Hannah’s doing. I stopped myself from wondering. I
might set her free like I did to you.
I looked at the red wine before taking a sip. The color looked like
blood. Your blood. Or did it look more like the color of your cherry
lipstick?
I took a small sip. The taste was actual wine. Neither blood nor
lipstick. My mind’s somewhere else.
An artist’s mindset. All a bit crazier than normal people. I’m just like
the rest of them. A bit crazier. Just a bit.
I got up and turned on the stereo to hear Phil Collin’s ‘In the Air
Tonight’. Perfect.
I sank back into the couch and closed my eyes. I waited for my death.
Sober me hoped High me would die of overdose. High me hoped
Sober me would die of suicide. The never-ending, never-dying cycle
continues.

41
 “They all feel the same.
Adjust to the fame.
‘Cause no one will love you like her.
It’s pointless like tears in the rain.
So now that she’s gone, embrace all that comes.
And die with a smile.
Don’t show the world how alone you’ve become.”

Chapter 10
Tears in The Rain

This one is about you. Both of you. I wrote the last song of my album.
The first verse would be about you, Angel Face. The second about
you, diamond.
I recorded in various studios. Let other professionals do a few tweaks
here and there until it was perfect.
My gang knew that most of the songs were about you. But they had
no idea I murdered you. I didn’t add that part in my alum.
Like I said, I’m only a bit crazier than most. Not mad enough to reveal
that I committed murder.
Everyone loved it and was satisfied of the outcome.
Cash yelled, “Prepare for your next big tour! Kiss Land Edition!”
Everyone else cheered.
We still had time to kill before the tour. The crew and I planned to
have fun at a strip club.
A club where the ladies aren’t just for the eyes.
It was in Las Vegas. And it was about to pour hard rain when we
arrived there.
Such coincidence.
The club name was Heavenly Creatures.
“Abel!” one of them called out of the pattering rain. Guess I zoned out.
I quickly hurried under the roof of the club, still looking at its name
written in neon lights.
“Did they expand?”
Sal looked at me questioning, “Why? You know this place?”
“Nevermind.” I’d rather not relive the past.
We entered the club. The first thing I laid my eyes on was a beautiful
redhead with blue eyes. Such coincidence.
Your eyes caught mine and you stopped dancing.
How had it come to this? Did I ruin you that much?
You came down from your little stage.
Not again.
“I’m not feeling it anymore. I’m taking a walk.”
“Abel!” I heard the gang call out but I was already gone.
If I decide to walk in the rain without cover, it means I wanted to be
left alone. They knew better than to follow me. You didn’t.
I heard footsteps rushing towards me. I hoped it wouldn’t be yours. I
hoped whoever it was would go back inside. But in life, we don’t
always get what we want.
“Hey!” you shouted.
I stopped walking and turned. I wasn’t crying. But I couldn’t
remember if tears were falling down my face. You wouldn’t be able
to tell too. I was soaked in rain after all.
Your amber hair was soaking wet as well, “Why didn’t you tell me you
were a famous singer?”
“Not that famous apparently.” I tried to smile but failed, “You didn’t
know me.”
You smiled at me seductively and coldly. It reminded me of Evelyn.
“Why don’t we catch up? We could get a room and…” you came closer
to me.
I wanted to run away. Away from this situation. Away from you. Away
from my guilt. But girls like you make me fall under a spell where you
can’t move.
“What do you say?” you pressed your lips to mine.
I mustered up all my strength to break free from the spell. It came out
barely a whisper, “No.”

43
You stumbled away, your eyes filled with hatred. “So you’ve had
enough of me within the first time?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Do you know this is all your doing?” you gestured at yourself.
I do. And I blame myself every day for that.
Before I could even think of a reply, you continued, “One time I decide
to go to a bar, I meet the worst possible person and let him ruin my
life.”
It looked like you were crying. I heard sobs too. But I couldn’t tell for
sure ‘cause of the rain.
“I got a really promising job that day. I was celebrating at that stupid
bar. I had to start work the next day. You made me late for my first
day at work! And I couldn’t concentrate the entire day because of the
hangover. And I still couldn’t any other day, for that matter, because
I really wanted to take those stupid drugs again. So any idea what
happened next? I got fired!”
You jabbed your finger against my chest. The chest where you once
buried your face in. “This is all your fault.”
It was clear you were crying now. You sobbed louder and sank down
to the ground. Your voice was barely audible, “Why? And why are you
rejecting me now?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” you looked up at me, “You couldn’t.”
No one could.
I lightly touched your shoulder, “Go back inside, diamond. You’ll
catch a cold.”
With that, I turned and left. I’m not repeating the same mistake twice.
Oh, Hannah why don’t you meet my friend Evelyn?
Evelyn’s free.
Hannah be free. Find your own way to get yourself free. Get back to
your old life.
Don’t make me do it for you. I’m not a killer.
You yelled a few curses at me, voice cracking.
Give it a month or less. You’ll get over it.
I walked around the roads of Las Vegas until the rain completely
stopped, hoping that I might get hit by a car or catch a serious cold
and drop dead. But in life, we don’t always get what we want.
I got to my place soaking wet but sadly, perfectly in good health
condition. I hit the showers and sat on the floor under the artificial
rain.
I thanked God for not taking my life. No matter how much I wanted
to, I couldn’t die. My family currently needs me. I had a tour to sell my
soul to and many more tours to come.
I asked God for forgiveness for taking your life. Both of yours.
This doesn’t make it even, but you took something from me too.
Especially you, Evelyn.
You provided such good company that I now feel alone even with
thousands of women beside me.
What does someone do when he can’t do commitments but also can’t
bear to be alone? Answer; shut up and deal with it.
The crew came to check on me the next day. I acted like I was fine.
I was fine. Physically.

The time eventually came to go on Kiss Land’s very own world tour.
I planned to just perform in Tokyo then leave immediately. They
understood and respected my decisions.
Half-understood. They knew it was about Evelyn. But nothing else.
We started with Los Angeles. I plastered on my best signature smile
as I went on stage, “LA, make some noise!”
Tour life: begin.

45
 End of Kiss Land.

He still continues to portray more mind-blowing music to this day.