Because I'm not in the mood for Mel's sermon." Cynthia answered. "I don't care what he says.

" I honestly retorted. "Neither do I. Just don't want to hear his opinion right now." "What if I wanted you to hear it anyway," Mel's voice startled Cynthia and I. "I'm going to my room." I said. I have an injured leg. I don't need scolding by the principal for being the naughty kid who took a picture of the hot teacher's cleavage. Mind you, its one of the best things that happened to me in 5th grade. Couldn't help it. She was 25 years old and smoking. I nearly sat on a blank CD. The thing bore no hint of recognition. Familiar, though. Hoping its the old original video recording of one of our underground albums, I turned the TV on and loaded it onto my player. While waiting for the video to start, I went to the bathroom to wash my face. I was about to grab a shirt when I noticed something was off with the noise coming from the TV. What are you doing here? I asked. Cynthia stood in front of the TV, saying something I couldnt digest since I saw what she was looking at. It wasnt old music video of ours, alright. Keifer once stole Tads stack of pornos and hid it in my closet. No idea how it found its way to my apartment. Anyway, I violently hit the stop button a number of times before the video was gone. Sorry, its not mine. Why am I apologizing to her? Its all good, Mike. Im not under eighteen. Even 12 year old boys watch that stuff. Uh, yeah. Yeah. Im here coz I think, we can start with the lyrics again. You know. Free afternoon, so.. Cynthia said. Right. Song writing. Okay. Thats good. Got questions before we restart, if thats okay with you. By all means, Cynthia settled on a chair. So... whats the album about? I fished juice boxes in the fridge and offered one to her as I held the other. Huh. She stared quizically at the juice box. What? You have juice boxes in there? Really? Judgemental. I pointed at her. Mel and Cliff are the ones who order crates of beer every month. I plead guilty, she grinned. There was a pause. I struck me odd that my housemates for 2 years knew so little about me. My frequent monthly absence due to tours and gigs and stuff plays a great contributing factor as to why this is so. I do participate during drinking sessions, house parties (where we seldom invite outsiders since theres already a handful of us), video games assembly at Robss room, and I make sure Im here during thanksgiving coz Cynthia cooks the best Turkey Ive ever tasted. In this house, Im the average tenant who rubs shoulders with the others quite well. 125 gives me a dose of normality; no cameras, no paparazzi, no snotty reporters. They used to hover around when I was new here, until Cyrus then pet doberman chased one of them, ripping the dudes pants off. The poor guys butt was exposed as he attemped to climb the fence. Bless took a picture, later uploaded by Rob. We never heard of him ever again and other media personalities kept well outside 125 premises. As I sat across Cynthia, it really hit me how horrible I must have looked like to her. I am not a gentleman. Im a drunkard. Im a health hazard to their auditory organs. Tell me something I dont know... According to what you know about me, you ever would say Im doing drugs, right? Or have done, at the very least.

Yes. She said apollogetically. No? She added thereafter, seeing the look on my face. Okay, I admit. That kinda hurt. I usually dont give a crap whatever people say about me, or our band, or the US president. People are prejudiced against bands, and they have very good reasons to. But the sterotype coming from someone I live with sort of gets to me. Confesssion again, I consider my housemates as some of the people closest to me, as close as anybody could ever get. Theyre my connection to the social hemisphere, aside from guys I work with. So Cynthia here is cutting me up, a teeny tiny bit. Never have. Never will. Judgemental. Yeah. Guilty here. How can I blame her? If reporters had been anywhere near in sight, theyd scoff. The album... well, it talks about a guy who falls for a girl. Typical. But he decides not to pursue her seeing hes no good for her. Relatable.... Say, is this derived from personal experience? I put the juice down at the table. Sorry to be a myth buster, but a songwriters inspiration doesnt always need to come from a break up or meeting a Victorias angel babe. 80% of the time, its pure imagination. What, youre saying emotions dont play a part? Disney princesses seriously messed up this girl, I privately thought. Do, I give you that. But not all the time. See, if I always write songs about people in my life, theyll sue me. Or Ill make myself vulnerable for expressing my weakness. Sometimes its just a complain you never get to say to the person sitting next to you in the bus whos got smelly underarms, or the elevator malfunctioning, or a really bad hair day. Random. Uncomplicated. Half my songs are about women I meet during concerts that I dont see ever again. What? What about a touch of your lips defines a mans lifetime purpose? That was a line from one of our mainstream songs. We got best new artist for it. Raven. She was my next door neighboor. Cynthia made a gesture indicating the lack of detail. I kissed her on the mouth by stealth. She slapped me, then said I was doing it wrong. Then she demostrated the right execution. We didnt work out. Probably due to the 10 year age gap. Shades of white, shades of grey, are colors when youre away, She quoted again. The one where you basically say the girl colors your world, though you said it so well your album sold like hotcakes and held billboard top 1 for a month. Ah. I REALLY really dont want to do this. Please dont leak th is to the press. It was about my bandmates new Rayban sunglasses. It was my turn to be apologetic. Hey, so you do listen to our music, huh? I hate alternative, rock, heavy metal. But June played your CD all the way to Laredo last fall. Remember when she invited all of us to the newly opened vacation spot property theyve been working on? I thought I was gonna be sick, but, yeah, youve got style. I raised both brows to convey appreciation. Better than Jarheads, in my opinion. Ah. Was all I said. Jarheads, the band who often trashtalked our band during their concerts. Their fans and themselves, I suspect, are the ones responsible for bad publicity of Holocaust. Pyre wouldve loved to retaliate, but I put my foot down strongly and told the rest that we are not gonna say anthing. In fact, I wouldnt want to hear the bands name from their mouths. They were astounded that I reacted at all, thats why they obeyed. Bless was watching TV two days ago. And.. they were going on about your band. Huh. When did the rivalry start? Coz its pretty big thing, Bless told me.

I have no idea. I only watch national geographic, sportsnews, fox, HBO and basketball TV. Not MTV? Nah. I hate their new VJs accent. And by some luck, its usually him I run into, so I unsubscribed. I told her. So, back to the album. What song are we writing about? The part when hes leaving. For good. Ok. So-so. Why does it still sound like a loveletter during the first stanza when youre actually leaving her? What do you mean? Dont you wanna get straight to the point? I snorted slightly before saying, Dont you women like a bit of mollifying, sweet words, before a guy goes for the kill? Yah, youre right. Cynthia conceded. Even if it doesnt necessarily make things easier. Uh, so, this guy, hows he gonna break the news to the girl? Hes got no balls, like most males. Hed never say the lets break up line. Just gonna treat her like trash until she gives up and finally spits it from her mouth. Now, thats something I call based on reality. Might as well use her female perspective, Hey, I just- I stopped in midsentence. Somethings funny. Why am I suddenly throwing questions I havent asked anyone before? What? Nothing. Nothing.. Aw, cmon. You were obviously gonna say something. Hmm.. Why do you women think its macho if a guy gives the girl the right to call a split up? Cynthia stared at the juice box before rolling her eyes. Duh, it means youre man enough to save a girls honor. Break-ups mean failure. Now, if the guy is the one who calls it, its not only hurtful. Its also degrading, humilitating. I couldnt help snorting again. She obviously took offence on my behavior. Okay, Id like to hear your side of the fence. You said so yourself, it doesnt actually make things easier. Havent you thought that the guy doesnt intend to save your face? That he just doesnt want the blame of the failure on him? For the first time since i know her, she had no counterargument. Cynthia and I worked till sundown. All my phones were shut down; both with and without wire. By 6 pm, she stretched and we went through what we came up with before we trudged to the kitchen. The smell of a chicken dish I cant spell the name of wafted the area. The rats came out of their holes, pioneered by Bless. Yum! Im hungry. He voiced out. Wow, Cynth. I dunno what my stomach will do without you. Rob followed closely. Rip itself apart? Cynthia suggested. Martha Stewart in the house? Cliff said. Go set the table, children. Dinners ready. Cythia commanded. I smiled at her. My mom often uses that dialouge to get me and my sister working. Whatre you sneering at? Nothing.. Nothing.. Just thought of a new world record. Huh? This is the first time we spent long hours together without you shouting at me. I grinned, and went ahead to pick up the cutlery were gonna use for dinner.