Peter was lounging on the library’s Chesterfield couch, his eyes semi-closed, as he enjoyed the nice and fresh breeze that passed through the open windows and made the curtains move in a sultry dance.

- I’m glad you’re feeling better already – he said, sleepily, as I went through the mail that I had been neglecting. Honestly, I was only doing so because he was in the room and I did not want him to see me lost in that oblivion I was treading on most of the time when I was alone. - Maybe we can go over Infinity’s deal offer. They’ve sent the contract already.

I felt a chill running down my spine and my jaw started clattering. I clenched it tight, to stop it from doing so. The name alone was powerful enough to send me down a very ugly spiral.

- Contract for a year, that can be extended for two more. An album a year – he was counting the perks on his fingers – 10 thousand for the first one, double on the second and the possibility of 50k on the third. And…

- We’ll stick with Bishop – I cut him off. I wanted nothing to do with that label or those people. Right now, I could not even bear the thought of sharing the same city with them, and that was why I was holed up in the countryside and was yet to step foot in the rehearsal room.

Peter turned to face me, not believing what I was saying – With Bishop? You’ll only get a year for 5 thousand and, to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t think they did that good of a job with promo.

I read the letter I had in my hands, trying to hone down the focus I did not think I had. New House was now rented out which meant that I would have a steady stream of income to pay for security.

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- I’d rather stay with Firefly, for the present time.

He furrowed his brows – Do you mind if I ask why? You never even got to speak with them.

I put the letter away, on the to be kept pile – I don’t know… Call it a… gut feeling.

Peter studied my face – I had no idea you made business decisions based on gut feelings… Not all that wise, but… - he shrugged and grabbed a copy of NME that stood on the side table and started, mindlessly, skimming through the pages – I mean, I think Infinity’s deal is great. I’d take it.

I closed my eyes, trying not to get lost – Get Bishop to go up to 6k. I need to have the roof fixed. - was all I could say.

He laughed loudly – That is very practical of you, El. But, yeah, sure. You’re the boss.

- How are your exams going? - I had to take the focus of the conversation away from me. I did not think I could bear to even hear that name again.

Peter told me all about it. About his exams, about St. Andrews and its Business department, that he had visited just a month ago, about all of his future plans and I just let him talk. Because, as long as he kept talking about himself, I did not have to think about me and my very dimmed will to keep on living.

As soon as Peter left, I had to muster all my courage to be able to even get near the pile of paper that he had left behind. It had been drafted at Infinity Records but, for all I cared, it could have spawned from the deepest circle of Hell.

An ominous shiver took over me, when I grabbed it and tossed it into the fire and I just stared as it was swiftly consumed.

That man had said that we both had gotten what we wanted. But I was not for sale.

The next day, I met up with the rest of the band. We had to step up and compensate for the time I had been ill. We were about to go on a very important tour and we needed to be in sync and at the top of our game. Nothing less than would do.

If, before, I had sung with only my body, now I was singing from deep inside my wounded soul and I kept getting compliments for it. It seemed that, the more hurt I was, the better I sounded.

Of course, people had no clue about anything that had happened and they could not see the stain that I was now convinced was all over me.