1979.

—"Oh, poor Frankie..."

Frank is your friend, someone you accompany at all times. Today... It was a terrible day for him, that's why those words came out of your mouth—He was fed up, he was stressed by one of his attempts to progress with his band London. He was stressed, angry and frustrated.

You comforted him, caressing him and patting him on the back while saying reassuring words—You didn't know how to comfort people, you were terrible, but you wanted to try.

You wanted to try, since Frank was always there for you, there is not a single day that that boy is not there. Then you hugged him and dried his tears—He even had the confidence to cry with you.

—"Everyone is shit... Not you, of course..."

Frank sighed and buried his head in your chest, he just laid there, exhausted. How could a 19 year old feel like this? You knew what a shitty life Frank had, so you were understanding. You grabbed his chin and placed a kiss on his forehead while giving him a smile.

Frank remained still, he raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat—He had a little smile on his lips.

—"Well, there you clarify my point that you are not shit..."