"Phabi, you know I hate to write. Fuck, why do you think I dropped out of Highschool? But I made you a promise. I promised I'd do anything to make you happy. And if that means writing you a story then so be it. My little Edgar Allen Poe." I began reading his notebook. "If the lights shut off and it's my turn to settle down, my main concern. Promise that you will write about me." I wept, wetting up Chris' notebook as I let the rose fall on his casket. The day was too beautiful for such a sad occasion. But, if anything this will be fuel to my fire. I will write about you Chris. And it'll be a damn good book.