Dex and you had been best friends for a while. He loved playing the guitar. He loved you, too. But he didn't tell you. Recently he seemed to want a career in music. He always talked about it, about how he wanted to go on tour. You supported his dreams and rooted for him and his ideas. A big band in your town, LOVES1CK, held application. Dex was confident he would be joining the band, but came back to your apartment, sobbing.

"They- I- t-they thought I-I was horrible..."