All Things End

there's nothing out here but me and a whisper

"Nothing. There's nothing here for me today." 

He sighed, resigned and deeply frustrated with himself. He had been sitting in front of his piano for hours, waiting for the music to speak to him, but all his efforts were rendered useless. He was stumped – he's done everything he usually does to get the creative juices flowing. He smoked a cigarette, took a nap, and skimmed through old lyrics. He's also played a few pieces from the group's archives, looking to create something worthwhile out of their previously scrapped materials. He even went as far as taking a walk around the property, hoping that the fresh air could quell some of the pressures that came with producing new music.

He's done absolutely everything, and all he got in return was a dull headache, subtly reminding him of his failure today. However, he wasn't completely out of ammunition. There was one more thing he could do, and it had never failed him before...wait. Benny knew that if time were any proof, inspiration would come to him if he waited long and hard enough. Once upon a time, inspiration came in the form of a woman with fiery red hair and a feisty personality to match. She would grace him with her warmth, and he would feel relaxed and riled up at her mere presence – and the coffee she usually brought with her. But that wasn't in his cards, not anymore...he...he made sure of that.

Hoping to release the gnawing feeling of defeat, Benny recklessly rammed his fingers on his piano, inadvertently producing a shrill sound that paved the way for his headache to transition from dull to intense. Holding on to his head, he got up from his chair and slowly laid himself on the ground, hoping to soothe his throbbing head. He closed his eyes and tried to enjoy a little peace and quiet.

"Pappa?"

Benny sat up abruptly, not expecting to hear from his daughter today, much less see her in the studio with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Heléne, what are you doing here?"

"I was just around the neighborhood and figured I should check on you – a-are you okay?" Heléne asked, her face all scrunched up. He found it quite funny that despite having no biological strings with his ex-wife, Heléne managed to inherit all of Frida's facial expressions.

"Oh yeah, I'm okay. What would make you think otherwise?"

"Well," Heléne scoffed, "It's not often I find you lying flat on the floor with a doomed expression on your face. Seriously, pappa, I had to stare at your stomach to make sure you were breathing." Heléne said, taking the empty space right beside her father. Benny chuckled at that remark and put his arm around his daughter. Silence reigned over them for a couple of minutes when Heléne broke their embrace and looked her father in the eyes.

"I lied." She whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't just in the neighborhood. I came from Frida's."

At the mention of her name, Benny could feel a twinge of hurt in his chest. "S-she called a couple of days ago, asking if I preferred to pick up the box she had packed for me or if she could take it to the apartment instead. I-I wanted to see her, so I w-went to her apartment, and she's...she's really leaving, pappa." Heléne finished, her voice breaking.

Benny knew she was leaving. She didn't tell him directly, but she had trusted Görel to cascade the information to everyone necessary while she was on a trip. When she arrived back in Stockholm, she reluctantly confirmed the news to the three of them and Stig. Naturally, the announcement sent Stig into a frenzy, but they all knew the end was coming. Frida was simply the first one to fly from the nest. Agnetha and Bjorn had pained looks on their faces but remained calm. They even embraced Frida when the day was over. Benny, however, felt betrayed. Betrayed and very, very guilty. He looks back on that day with the utmost sorrow.