Mike woke up to the worst day of his life.

El was not in bed.

He went out to the living room, such as it was in the small cabin, and said, "What are your plans for the day?"

"That's easy."

She held out her wrist, took over her torn shirt tied around it, took off her wedding ring, the one Mike had made at a from the tuning peg, tied the shirt through it and threw it in his face.

"Tie it around your dick for all I care."

He just looked at her, "Um, I guess everything is not ok?"

She gave him the most evil smile he thought he'd ever seen. "Go ahead Mike. Ask me if I love you. Go ahead. I dare you."

In two seconds the numbness set in.

In two minutes he had his jacket and shoes on and was halfway through the woods to his car.

In two hours he was looking for a place to live.

In two days he moved into a very small apartment under an assumed name. No phone. No internet.

Mike figured it took him a little over two months to die inside.

It was a slow painful death. He had his groceries delivered, he didn't go out. He couldn't even think about listening to the radio or any music.

Without Eleven, Mike Wheeler was dead.

Now he just had to figure out how to live the rest of his life.

XXXXX

"Mike, why didn't you just confront her?"

Mike was at his parents place doing laundry, and Max had happened to call when he was there.

"Max, you didn't see her. She dared me to ask her if she loved me. Sorry Max. I have no idea what's going on. She took over that torn shirt and our wedding ring and threw it at me."

"So you just gave up on her?"

Mike was silent.

"Sorry, Mike. I know you would never do that… but… dammit Mike you know what she can be like."

"She hasn't been like that for years. I mean, I know she's kind of bored, at least creatively, maybe she's just bored of me too."

"No way Mike. You've never heard the way she talks about you."

"That was before, Max."

"It was a little over two months ago. Something is wrong. I'm going over to fix it." She hung up on Mike.

Max was in California. Well, Mike thought, she couldn't make it any worse.

He got another call while he was at his parents place. It was from Holly, president of the Eleventeen Fan Club.

"Um, Mike?"

"Hey Holly, what can I help you with?"

"El calls us all the time… and… um… we haven't heard from her in over two months."

"Yeah, I figured. This is harder for me to say than you think, but El and I are no longer together."

"That's not right… that's…." and then Holly started crying. He heard the phone drop. He waited for about 15 minutes and then he hung up.

XXXXX

[ Here at RMR, we have heard absolutely nothing from 11. The band, the members, not even to El and Mike Wheeler who we've extended several invitations to. It is like they disappeared off the face of the earth. We reached out to Holly the president of Eleventeen, but she wasn't available for an interview. Usually this means that the band is working on a big project, but they've not put out an album as a full band in some time. We've always been thankful that El Wheeler recorded fantastic solo albums, and agreed to every interview… but this is different folks. I don't want to be so dramatic as to say this is like the the whole Paul is Dead story, but it's unnerving not to hear anything. If they had representation via a RIAA, well, we'd certainly get some kind of statement. But they are their own band. They haven't relied on the corporate weasels for a long time. Apologies to David Letterman for stealing his phrase, but it's very appropriate.

-[Heard on Rock Music Radio]

XXXXX

Mike was too numb to cry. He'd been like that for over two months. He had no reason to get up in the morning and once up he had no reason to go to bed. No one to hug.

Or kiss.

He did have someone he loved, but she was lost to him now. So, numb it was, for at least the time being.

He let his hair grow long to its corkscrew length, even longer. He grew a beard, but kept if fairly trimmed close to his face. He didn't want to be combing food out of it all the time or look like he was auditioning for ZZ top .

One morning he looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't recognize himself, he knew his face underneath the hair and the beard was haggard, but if he put on sunglasses he would be about as anonymous as could be.

He put on a pair of Vuarnet Glacier sunglasses. They were perfect. He finally got to wear a pair of six hundred dollar sunglasses. "There we go, just the pretentious wanker look I was going for… at least I won't be recognized."

He wasn't going to wear expensive clothes, jeans and a blue plaid shirt would do. He didn't have any look he wanted to maintain. He took the torn shirt sleeve tied through the wedding ring and transferred it to the jeans. He wasn't ready to leave it behind yet. That seemed a little too permanent.

"I love you El." He kissed the torn shirt sleeve and stuffed it into his pocket.

Mike had decided months ago not to descend into a pit of drugs and booze. He didn't want to be a rehab graduate. Over and over again.

He didn't want his life to be over. He knew he would be lonely, but another girl… no. That was just not going to happen.

The concept was so far from his current thinking as to be totally… unthinkable.

XXXXX

[ A recording was left for us here at the studios of RMR. There was a piece of masking tape on it. " Mike" was written on the tape . So we played it ourselves off air to see what it was. We knew we had to air it as soon as possible. What you are about to hear is pretty much indescribable. Well, no, I guess not really. I would describe it as a love song and apology to Mike Wheeler. I say Mike Wheeler because this is El Wheeler singing her heart out. There are funny moments, unbelievably sad moments. Angry moments, but to be clear not at Mike, but at herself. Needless to say, it's brilliantly written and performed. There is a bit of bass that can be heard through out, but it's mostly acapella, something she excels at. Nobody sings like she does. Nobody. I'm going to go out on a limb here. If you aren't crying by the time end of this song, and it's a long song, it runs exactly 44 minutes, if you aren't crying, then you are dead, or your heart is. Or your soul. If you don't cry you at the end should not be allowed to live on this planet. Go away. F**k off (bleeping can be heard) and stop breathing my air. The album/song plays next, titled simply: Mike.]

- [Heard on Rock Music Radio]

[ Interview from a fan hearing "Mike" the new album/song from El Wheeler ]

11 Fan: I was, like, in a record store and they put on this song. I could like, tell from the voice right away that it was El Wheeler, I mean, like, I've got all of 11's records, both vinyl and on cd. I've got all her solo albums. I just love her. So this song comes on, and like, you could see everyone in the store just kinda stopped and looked up to where the speakers were. There were headbangers, goths, emo's, all kinds stopped to listen. I could see almost everyone heading to store counter when it finished, it had to be like close to an hour this song… so they go to the counter to ask about it and everyone one of them went away with the album. And then I saw this one guy. Tall dude, with like long shaggy hair, beard and wearing these stupid sunglasses that looked like they were skiing goggles, and he just like stood there. I could see the tears falling from behind is sunglasses. I mean I think we were all crying, but this guy was like crying buckets, like he'd never cried before, like maybe he was the Mike this song was about. I put my hand on his arm to show him we we all felt the same, but I don't think he even noticed. When the song was done, he just hung his head and left the store. I'll never forget his tears for as long as I live. That's why we listen to her. She hit us deep. There's nothing like her music. I just love her so much.