The band went home and returned to work, family and music. I spent a week in the mechanic shop. The studio engineers are really girls who still have to smoke in the street.

We tried our best to make boring songs more interesting. Some of the live drums were replaced by drum machines. He tried to distort some guitars. When we tried what we tried, we threw a drawer full of cutlery on the floor and used it as a trapping sound like metal tape. He looked at me every time we stopped.

She felt like a witch, did the same with similar people, had the same sad consequences and knew what had happened.

I have never been with her. I was just working on music. It was still amazing. He laughed at how wonderful it was. I sent a record from the hotel room to the label, took the taxi to the airport and returned to the vulgar basement. There were no more emails than the eviction notice.