Daryan, my beloathed,
You suck. You've ruined the name of the Gavinners—my name which will go down in legal history in infamy. You ruined my prized guitar; you made me catch fire on stage, and not even in a rocking way! Just in a bad way! You made me the laughingstock before all in both my professions. Ich hasse dich.
I'm disgusted with myself to have fallen for your disguise: a wolf in sheep's clothing, nein, a shark in rocker's gear. I hope you are the only one I've misjudged, though something tells me otherwise. What sort of prosecutor can be deceived at close range by his best friend for years? Only a fool.
I invited you into the band for respect of your boundless ambition, but it's gotten the better of you, ja? The fame and wealth weren't enough for you? Guess nothing takes the edge off a Borginian orphan's fear—you and Machi both. If you'd practiced more, and sucked less, you could've been lead guitar. Would that have made you happy?
Wish I could say it's been nice rocking with you. You know what? It's been okay. On a good day, you're an okay guitar player if you have ten good fingers. And you've taught me an invaluable lesson: Trust no one. Not even people as close as family. Not even people who are family.
Thanks! I hate it!
Fahr zur Hölle,
Klavier
- O -
Author's notes: Just me hoping that writing these will help me understand them better. :)
