“Trust me- you don’t want to be my friend.” And he’s not talking about his sparkling personality, either. Still, he doesn’t say that. Instead, he just swirls the ice around in his glass. This is a risk. This is a risk that won’t just affect him. There are faint memories swirling in the back of his mind like this ice, of paranoia and frightened adrenaline and never knowing who to trust.

But you had to do something, or you got nowhere.

“...You know, I know a couple of guys who don’t really care for being in the music business anymore. Too much work, and shit.”