He burst in the front door at the Mind Fry Complex. He moved quickly. Babakar and John were in the kitchen. He said nothing to them. Hans came out of the bathroom and Vlad told him “Grab your sticks we’re jamming.” Hearing this John and Babakar gave each other a look of curiosity. Vlad was pissed, Vlad was mad. They could only speculate. Still Babakar went and set things to record. He didn’t know what was up but recording it couldn’t hurt. The bass and drums were still set up from when they recorded earlier in the day. When they broke for dinner Vlad had said he had to go to his hotel. He was meeting Melissa for dinner. Now he was back and was pissed. Hans and Vlad went into the studio and Vlad cranked up his bass and when Hans got a good groove going just hit the distortion and started wailing away. Over and over he kept ripping one note after the other screaming, feeding back howling, it was impressive. He would stop and then say “Again” and Hans would kick in. This went on for a bit all the while Babakar was watching the board unbeknownst to Vlad. After about 30-40 minutes of this Vlad put the bass down softly in the stand. He looked at Hans and said “Thanks” then he turned and saw John and Babakar. He nodded to them and put his coat and hat on and left.

Hans looked at the other 2 and just shook his head. “What do you think that was all about?” John asked Babakar.

“He seemed angry. Very much so.”

“Melissa, he was going to meet her for dinner.” John speculated.

Babakar just nodded his head.

Vlad was riding his bike up Lakeshore heading east. It took him a half hour but he finally got to the hotel. He was feeling exhausted. He went up to his room and poured a shot of vodka. He picked up a piece of paper with some writing on it. He read it again. Tears formed in his eyes while rage burned in his heart.

        I have decided to end this. I’m sorry but it just isn’t feeling quite right. You are only here some of the time while I am here all of the time. I suppose it was doomed from the beginning. I hope we can still be friends, I really love the music you are playing.

That would have been hard enough for him but when he called her it turned out the real reason is that she had started seeing someone else. She hadn’t the nerve to add that in her note. If she had only been honest he would feel sad... but the rage wouldn’t be burning so violently. He loved her, he thought, he couldn’t really tell now. He felt he hated her at this moment. It hurt, the pit in his stomach was painful and deep. He wanted vengeance. He wanted to hurt her as much as was possible. Emotionally, physically, psychologically... anyway he could he wanted her to suffer. He thought of harming her physically and while the thought pleased him he knew he could never do it in reality... he didn’t think anyway. She did this to him and now he hoped the worst for her. He poured more vodka. It didn’t help any. Then he poured a little more. It helped temporarily. But it was no solution. He had no solution. Time was the only solution and it was dragging it’s feet.