It was a little bit after one of Depeche Mode's latest concert. You were crying to yourself alone, at night, in the cold outside breeze. A car came by, it looked like a limosene, but you couldn't care less. You were too caught up in your own thoughts. Until someone approached you, that is. You didn't even hear them at first.

"-Are you okay?" His British accent made you freeze. You'd recognize that anywhere. Looking up through your tears, you saw Martin Gore, the guitarist of the band you loved oh so much, and that you went to a concert of a few hours ago.

"My mates 'nd I.. We were driving past, leavin' th'concert. Saw ya cryin' all here by yaself. You alrite?" He explained.