MOVING IN STEREO

BLEED IT OUT

"Yeah, here we go for the hundredth time.

Hand grenade pins in every line

Throw 'em up and let something shine

Going out of my fucking mind

Filthy mouth, no excuse

Find a new place to hang this noose.

String me up from atop these roofs

Knot it tight, so I won't get loose.

Truth is, you can stop and stare.

Bled myself out, and no one cares.

Dug a trench out, laid down there.

With a shovel up out of reach somewhere

Yeah, someone pour it in

Make it a dirt dance floor again.

Say your prayers and stomp it out.

When they bring that chorus in

I bleed it out

Digging deeper just to throw it away

I bleed it out

Digging deeper just to throw it away

I bleed it out

Digging deeper just to throw it away

Just to throw it away

Just to throw it away."

Bleed it Out

Linkin Park

Holy mackerel, what a dream! I sat there breathing for a moment, looking around the room. No one, nothing but my duffle bag lying open on the valet. The clothes that I had worn lay where I had dropped them next to the bed. The first thing I smelled was gross, my cold pizza, terrible first thing in the morning. Wait, morning? What time was it anyway? Shit, it was nearly noon! I had to get it into gear! In a few steps, I jumped out of bed and was in the shower, figuring out how to turn the hot water down. I was scalding. Finally, I got it. I managed to shower and shave in fifteen minutes, a record for me.

I dressed in my clean and most comfortable blue jeans, my Dock Martins, my lucky No Bozo's tee shirt (the one I was wearing the night I met Sofia), and my green and black plaid flannel. I put on the chain she had given me and checked my face in the mirror; no missed spots, but the hair could do with a bit of fixing, but I didn't have time.

I phoned Renee and told her the plan. There was an open beer on the nightstand. I took it and chugged it walking out onto the balcony and taking in the view. It was cold, not quite as cold as the night before, but not warm. At least there was the sun, though, and more people than I would have imagined on Christmas Eve. The beer made me hungry and cold pizza was not an option. I didn't want the room to smell like it, so I took what was left and put it on the balcony.

The first order of business was to eat, then to get some new threads. I just wanted a sports coat type of jacket, maybe a better shirt. I had something in mind; I had no intention of losing the jeans, though. I tried to look a little better, really a little cooler for my girl. I wanted her to see me and think, 'damn, that's my guy.'