8 years have passed since that peculiar morning. Joys, tragedies, sorrows, fears that won't count for now.

Essex hasn't changed a lot during those years. As always, violence has been the same, some disturbances, but mayhem's a memento even at the most peaceful country around the world. In my understanding, almost everyone has ever been assaulted for at least one, huh? Am I right? Who cares? Although this happens, people continue their daily activities with a few cautions.

About the narration, our focusing point was the young man who can be referred as only "man" or "guy"; he was 31 years old now, meaning it was time to examine for new opportunities for many things: find a new home, friends, job, but specially people with high knowledge on music in general. The reason? As I told you in the Prologue, he was a member on a band, but as many he joined, they all failure at the end, by controversy, organization problems or just because it wasn't worthy. All of this ideas changed until where are we now, 1997.

As for him, he was making his way downtown somewhere to spot someone who could serve him as the band's "leader". A friend went with him at his search.

- Maybe we can find someone at the park –the friend suggested.

- No friggin idea, man –the guy answered.

- Trust me -said Cohen, the guy's new friend- we can catch a master at this and we'll be successful. Hey, how 'bout there? –Cohen pointed with his tomb at a black-colored place with the sign Narwhal. The man simply sighed and put his hand all over his forehead.

- Do yew think there's the correct guy's in hea'?

- You may never know. Come one, let's go –Cohen pat the man's back as he advanced to the local. The man simply stared at Cohen, thinking he would fail once again in that day.

Despite getting along with someone who wanted to help him, he usually cogitated his own ideas, he though he really never met a total genius.

Before this counsel given by Cohen, they explored other dwellings where tracing someone with those requirements was like the winning lottery chances. I won't tell you about the other occasions, they were way too bad and useless.

There were the giant letters with the place's name, inside; the walls were painted in red, giving a nostalgia feeling to some people who went there. This was the correct place. People from teenagers to oldies liked the same as him, photos from famous rock artists like Elvis Presley in the classic rock section, Metallica, Guns and Roses from Metal, The Beatles with their original and creative kind… This residence appeared to have from everything.

The man felt pleasant as he saw many people who did the same as him, the surroundings were from his likings as a teenager, flawless place to find the right one. The local wasn't full at all, mostly people get around at night.

A blondie lady in jacket and black pants, with one hand over her hip and grabbing her hair with other one, asked them if they needed something.

Cohen simply answered "no", and this time the man didn't interrupt him like every time he asked something to an employee hours ago.

Then, they saw a presenter announcing advisements before the next role. He was sweating, tired and the loud music was hurting his ears. Anyway, he had to continue with his work.

- Today's Thursday, so we got an offer of 2X1 on any beverages- useless dialogue line in here, I know. I just want a milkshake right now- for our next show, we have a recently formed group, "The Skeletons".

Cohen and his friend decided to stay and watch this role. A group of five members played "Are You Gonna Go My Way" by Lenny Kravitz.

The event was great, not professional but neither newcomers. People in there seemed to enjoy it, the crowd was shouting from their tables and smashed them telling for yet another song, a small event pulled a vast part of the audience watching.

The guy also had positive comments about the show but also pondered about going home.

Cohen found the music's quality so good, he finished his search for that day and he wanted to ask about the instruments to the band's guitarist.

- Excuse me, but where did get all those instruments? – Cohen asked.

- Oh, I got them at Yamaha, but there are other good places.

Cohen's friend wasn't actually waiting for that, but he changed his opinion.

- You got Dr. Sax, Strings and Things, Jive Music and there's this place named Uncle Norm's Organ Emporium, the nearest for sure, which is… -this guy stopped a moment to count with his fingers- like a mile away if you were asking for it.

- I didn't question for that, but thanks for the- Cohen couldn't finish his sentence as his friend took him away by pulling his arm in a disconcerted way.

The guy reacted as if someone stole his last cookies exported from Finland, well, not that much mad, just a little bit.

- Wot' a'e yew doing? We were just comin' to find someone, not asking for-

- Ey, you said you were also looking for stuff out here, so I'm helping you right now. Don't be mad at me, bud- Cohen said disappointed as he raised his hands to his shoulders' high.

-Yeah emo hair–the man said-. I'm leavin' this place –another useless sentence I wrote just for fun, said by the guy to The Skeletons' guitarist's hair. He poked his sight on a mirror in the restroom, he recognized his hairstyle wasn't so attractive at all, he frowned his mouth and exposed his eyes as seeing himself.

Sky was getting darker, the plain streets were getting emptier and the sun was hiding behind the tall buildings. They managed to find this site, casually; it was close to the petrol station they visited the day before. It had a classical style design from the outside.

As they managed to enter, they found out the place was (literally and in a metaphor way ) cool, the retro decoration and options changed the man's point of view about Cohen's choice.

A large dark-green walls room with softer colors kept in circles, black lines crossing through the walls, a black sofa at the corner, musical instruments filling the place of all kinds, well-organized things and amid other adornments you can picture in your mind.

The man felt again the throwback coming to his head and the feeling of what he could treasure there. He rushed himself to look for what novelties were in there while Cohen was checking CDs at the other side. The man could overhear some voices in the background (not inside his head, he didn't have any mental problems, he was just a little bit insane).

- Hey Stu, my turn's over –a male voice said- my cousin and I are getting busy tonight, so Kenny's coming in my place.

- Sure thing, see ya'.

The man witnessed the dialogue for the reflexion of a small sign covered in transparent plastic at his side.

He saw a young man sitting on a chair in front of a desk, checking something (he really was playing Minesweeper at the computer) and the other guy left the local from the gateway. He glanced over and the young man was coming to him with a wide smile and hands behind him. The older man tumbled at the other quarter; he smirked and changed his voice to sound less weird.

- So, what's goin-

- Good afternoon, I mean –the young man lift his forearm to check in his wristwatch- good night, sir. May I help you find something? –his voice sounded secure about what was he doing at the time, crossing his fingers in above his chest.

Cohen turned his head to realize what was going on with the employee's hair. He hesitated at the young man, Cohen tried to turn back his sight away from him, as if nothing really happened.

- Nyeh. I'm fine… -the man suddenly recalled why he went there- wait, how much does this thing cost? –he said holding an acoustic guitar with both hands.

The young man took the instrument and departed to the desk where he had the checking-prices-thingy in the computer.

- The today's offer is £302.92 from a normal price of £403.89.

The older man just directed his view to the floor; he sighted between his teeth and harked his sight back at the employee.

-Is there anything else I can do for you?

- No, that was all –the older man envisaged overdue him before turning back, he shouted his friend's name which he took a while to reply, the older man got a little dissipated as he crossed his arms.

- Hey –said the younger man- I think I've seen you before, you look very familiar to me… Are you… Manuel, Matthew… The man who plays the bass at the pub-

-Right, that's me –the man quickly answered even earlier the employee could finish his phrase, he set up his tone and got snooty- I'm Murdoc Niccals.

- Oh yeah! I know who you are thanks to a partner who told me about you!

- Alright, alright, calm down –Murdoc (finally you guessed who was, too obvious) moved his hand as if soothing off the young man.

Cohen finally showed up anxious, his friend and him left the store.

As they got in the car, Murdoc placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

- Things are ridiculously expensive there, don't you think? Besides, I couldn't help myself but look at this guy's hair, did you notice?

Murdoc stood quite for a few seconds, when he finally spoke heavily.

- I MEAN, HOW SOMEONE COULD DYED THEIR HAIR COLOR BLUE!? It's not even a good color.

- Em, Murdoc… I think you're exaggerating a little.

- Oh, sorry. By the way, you're right. No worries, Cohen, I think I know what to do –Murdoc grabbed Cohen's head almost hurting him with his long sharp nails and he whispered something I can't identify.

- But, Murdoc… That's technically impossible –Cohen said surprised.

- Ok, then. So, plan B –he told his friend other two tactics he came up with at the moment, but Cohen wasn't sure about them. They were so strange even Murdoc considered them like that after saying them.

- Cohen, start developing, plan D –he distinguished the letter "D' from the rest of the sentence, as if presenting a new invention, Cohen saw his friend's sharp yellowish teeth. He always though they were one of the grossest things he had ever seen, besides his mind.

- You know, I can't have a comment on that; empty brains just annoy me-he laughed deeply as Murdoc stared at him while turning the car on.

- Say that one more time and I'll swear that-

- No! Just kidding, Mudz. Sarcasm is just another service I offer– Cohen said smiling and raising his forearms.

- Nyeh, you're still a freshman for this stuff –Murdoc said to Cohen, who at the time was around 17-20 years old, yet learning about lessons he had no desire to know.

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