Quinten leaned back against the headrest of his car as he drove in route to the airport. Roy, his bodyguard, sat at his side unsure of why his friend and employer would put himself through this. Most guys would turn the station if their soon-to-be ex-wife were on the radio singing about how bad he had made her feel. Quinten, though, wasn’t like that. He didn’t want to run away from what he had done and being a musician himself he understood that writing about the pain could sometimes soften the blow. He encouraged it. “I don’t believe that, man.” Roy spoke up, deciding that he would like to debate the lyrics of the song since he could tell that Quinten was hashing and rehashing them inside of his head anyway. “You don’t believe what?” “The part about her saying…..



Posted in 69

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s