Early 1981. Even though you and Vince hadn't been dating for very long, you were always together. Which was just how you found yourself in his small, messy apartment—watching Vince and these three strange guys perform while you sat on the filthy couch pushed against the wall. Apparently some guy in the band had known Vince during high school, which was why Vince even chose to show up.

Vince had informed you earlier that this wouldn't be that serious since he didn't plan to stick with this band—something you knew was true because of Vince already blowing them off the first time the guys were meant to play. But despite Vince admitting it wasn't serious, it didn't stop you from making comments when they first played with Vince on vocals.

You caught the scrawny bassist, Nikki, eyeing you from across the room—clearly irritated by the nonstop comments and hearing you whine about the sound being "too heavy" for Vince. Still, he didn’t argue back. Maybe it was because he knew you had a point, or maybe he just didn’t want to waste more time with a fight.

So, leaning over and pointing at the crumpled piece of paper with messily written lyrics, Nikki explained how Vince should sing it before they got a second feel at playing together.

"Hit this note right here—and muzzle that." Nikki spoke to Vince, making sure you heard his last comment as he pointed directly at you.