As soon as the woman lying beside me begins to snore softly, I slip out of bed and quickly and quietly as humanly possible. I navigate the hallway effortlessly, knowing exactly which floor boards to avoid and which stairs to skip on the way down.     

It's almost funny how well you get to know your house when you don't sleep at night.     

I finally flip on a light when I enter the basement studio and ease down onto the piano bench. I've been doing this almost nightly for the last three months and it has yet to get old.     

Coming down here is the only time I can sit and really think, try to organize the countless thoughts floating through my head.      

I pull the wrinkled piece of paper out of my pocket and smooth it out on top of the piano. This thing has been folded and unfolded a thousand times, crumpled up into a little ball, thrown across rooms, dug out of the dozens of trash cans I've thrown it in and still, the only damage to it are the creases.     

It's damn near indestructible.     

I've tried a thousand times to get rid of it, but I just can't bring myself to part with it permanently. It's the only piece of her I've got left... how could I even think of getting rid of it?     

I'm not even really sure when the idea to put music to the words came to me, but one night, I found myself sitting here doing everything I could to work something out, and now it's bordering on an obsession.     

Unfortunately, nothing I've come up with yet is good enough.     

It probably sounds completely fucking crazy, but I almost feel like this is the key to getting over her, like if I ever do find the right arrangement, that'll really be the end.      

"That's really pretty."      

I jump slightly and halt my playing before glancing at the clock. I had no clue I'd been down here for almost three hours. I turn to face the voice and force a smile.     

I guess I should have known she'd eventually realize that I was gone. "Thanks."    

"Gonna use it for anything?"    

"Nah. I'm just screwing around." I grab the letter quickly and shove it in my pocket. She's the last person who needs to see those words. "What're you doing up?"    

"I woke up and you were gone." She frowns and slides her arms around my neck from behind. "You know I hate when you do that."    

"Yeah... sorry." I mumble, shutting my eyes as a face other than hers flashes through my mind.     

I knew it was stupid to think Keri would be any kind of substitute. Deep down, I knew she'd never be able to fill the hole Madison left. I knew, but it hasn't kept me from trying.     

And it actually worked at first. That first month or so, being with Keri was just like being with Madison. She was funny... I loved being around her, we got along great. I honestly thought I'd get past all of the bullshit and could really be happy with Keri.     

Then her album came out and everything went to hell. She went into fucking diva mode, making all of these ridiculous demands and doing everything she could to keep herself in the public eye. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be doing her any favors because her album isn't selling anywhere near what we'd hoped for.     

And I think it's all because of her attitude.     

And that makes me fucking sick.      

I should have walked away before I let it get this far, but just when I was ready to take off, she'd smile at me or crack some stupid joke and it was like being around Madison all over again.     

It's insane, but those moments are the reason I've stuck around. I miss that girl so fucking much that I'm desperate to catch even a glimpse of her, even if it's hidden in another person.     

Maybe if I'd gotten some form of closure, it wouldn't be so bad, but she left me with absolutely nothing. She completely disappeared and the only trace of her I have is that stupid song.     

I guess that's her MO. Dump me and write some damn song as an explanation.     

This whole thing is so her too. Pack up, and fucking take off. I should have seen it coming.     

"Why don't you come back to bed?" Keri smiles hopefully and presses her lips to my temple.    

"Yeah... you go on up. I'll be there in a few." I mutter as she releases her hold on me and leaves.     

You know what the worst part is? Keri doesn't have a fucking clue. She has no idea that every time I look at her, I'm picturing Madison in her place. She doesn't realize that I'm using her to make up for what I lost.     

She thinks I genuinely care about her. And under normal circumstances, I'm sure I'd feel bad about misleading her, but this time... I just don't. I don't care if she gets hurt. I don't even care if she ever finds out that I see her as a poor man's Madison.     

All I care about are those moments where she reminds me of the girl I fell in love with.     

Those moments are the reason I get out of bed in the morning, they're the only things keeping me going. And yes, I know that's fucking pathetic, but I just don't care.     

I don't really care about anything anymore. 

*****************     

"There's just.... nothing." Trace mutters and shakes his head as we stare at the pile of tapes in front of us. "I've listened to every damn one of these and it all sucks ass."    

"Keep looking." I shrug.     

On paper, hiring Trace at the label seemed like a great idea. Number one, he's my best friend and I like surrounding myself with people I can trust. Secondly... after his time as my assistant, then... hers, he's made some connections that could come in handy and learned a lot about the industry.     

It seemed like the perfect situation.     

But now, I've got mixed feelings about it. He's been trying for weeks now to find my next artist and either he's just not putting out enough effort or everything he's come across really is shit.     

I'm not sure which is the truth, but it's a lot easier to assume he's not really trying, get mad and yell alot. Plus, yelling at Trace gives me a chance to vent all of my frustration, so really... I win either way.      

"Dude... fuck that. I can't do this shit by myself. I'm all about staying out all night, but I'm worn the fuck out. Just last night, I went to four shows, then spent all damn night listening to demos. I need some fucking help."     

Guess I should have seen that one coming.      

I don't know why, but he never wants anything resting on just his shoulders. He always wants some kind of help, I guess to keep the screw ups from falling back on just him.     

"Fine. I'll get some resumes together and you can find somebody."    

"Actually..." He grins and I know right away, that I'm about to get into some massive shit. "I've already got someone in mind."     

Does the fact that I own this label not matter to anyone? More and more everyday, my employees are taking control, and telling me what to do, and it's getting real fuckin old. I'm the boss. I give the orders damnit.     

"I swear to Christ... if you're gonna try talking me into hiring some skank you're banging... you can fucking forget it."        

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, prick." He chuckles and rolls his eyes. "I'm thinking Jace, man."    

"On second thought... bring on the floozy."     

He can't be fucking serious. I mean, me hire Jc? What planet is this guy living on?     

I'm not saying Jace is a bad guy or anything, it's just... I don't think there's any going back after some of the shit that's happened the last couple years. We were back on ok terms for Madison's sake, and with her out of the picture... there's really no point.     

Hell... I haven't even talked to him since before she went into rehab.      

"No."    

"Why the hell not?" He demands and folds his arms over his chest.     

I never would have thought it, but for a short little shit, he can be kind of intimidating when he wants to be.     

"Just... because."    

"Nice J." He mutters and rolls his eyes. "Look... stop being a fucking girl for two seconds and think about it. He knows his shit, and you know that. Plus, we already know he's great at the whole talent scouting thing. Or did you forget that he found Madi-"    

"Don't."     

I know it's kind of stupid, but I have forbidden my friends and family from talking about her. Most of the time, they have no problem going along with it, but every so often somebody slips up.     

I don't know why, but I just... I can't stand to talk about her.      

"Fine." He sighs and shakes his head. "The point is... we already know he's got an eye for this shit. You know I'm right."     

Maybe he is right. But still... it's Jc.     

But then again... even I can admit the guy knows his shit.      

"Set up an interview." I mumble before turning and heading out of the room, not missing the triumphant, shit eating grin he shoots my way.