….“I AIN’T FUCKING SITTING DOWN! NOT UNTIL YOU TELL ME WHY YOU THINK I’LL DIE IF I STAY!”

“FUCK BOY!” he spits. “First you don’t want to go, and now you don’t want to stay! How about you make up your FUCKING mind, and then we’ll work out what the next step is, cause I’m too old for this BULLSHIT!”

“F-F-Fine, okay! FINE!” Keith spits as he throws himself down and stares frustratingly at Clarence who clears his throat aggressively.

“Now, you may not believe me when I tell you this, but there came a time, like there comes in every musician’s journey, where the magic slipped away and I started to do anything I could to drag it back, to capture the glory days of when I was king of the whole damn world. I tried them all, meditation, drugs, alcohol, cold FUCKING turkey, falling in love, falling out of love, anything and everything, and none of it worked, not one. That’s when I was introduced to another way, a different way to grasp popularity again. Some of the old colts called it a bank, but it wasn’t money they loaned, it was creativity wrapped in an idea that was part of a spell, and when you cast it out there, the world wanted to hear you again…..”