Eric Draven would live in a small flat in the attic of an old Victorian house. He wouldn't bother about people telling him he needs to find a new place to live,fangirls trying to cut off a strand of his hair or his white Persian cat Gabriel biting on his leather jacket all day...he'd simply enjoy the things that breathed life into his flesh,like enjoying a few puffs from his cigarette after a gig as his lungs screamed for more and his conscious cursed at his addiction. Eric would be a romantic soul,wandering through the dark streets,the glorious moonlight enlightening his path as the cold Finnish night kissed away the feeling of loneliness moldering his soul.

He'd sit by the window every night,watching the shining stars shining for thousands of lost souls on the dark sky...only one of them catching his attention from night into night. His heart would lead the way to the past,when his life was still enriched with her presence.

He could still feel her tender skin under his big palms,its warmth vibrating through his body. He remembered his own breath rhytmically flying upon her,caressing the skin on her neck as his heart was drowning in the blissful feeling of passion.

The more he thought about it,the more pain he felt...as the world crumbled around him. He'd feel his breath quickening as excruciating memories took over his heart,wrapping his arms around himself...in hope it would ease the pain,stop his soul from falling apart.

And yet,he feared of what would be of him if the pain were to vanish , loneliness,sorrow...wasn't it perhaps those were the only things that made him feel alive?

No...there was something else,he thought as he run his fingertips over the rough strings of his guitar. He let the nifty sound heal his heart as a smile spread on his face,lighting a cigarette.

Music...morphine to his scarred soul.