The document provides a first-person account of the narrator's past, including his rise to fame through viral YouTube videos with his partner Jaime. He describes meeting Jaime years ago in a small Iowa town and their turbulent on-again, off-again relationship over the following years as they pursue acting careers in New York City. Their relationship is tested by struggles with smoking, jealousy, and loss of passion, but they find success making improvised comedy videos on YouTube together.

1. TheRealFRANKYhollywood
by mkSTEVENS
I can say words perfectly when written for me. Because of this, I’ve won awards. I’m famous, but you
know this already. Everyone at this fucking wedding knows this already. How could they or you forget
my rise to fame on Youtube. It only takes one video to go viral to make you famous, right? Now, I’m no
Lady Gaga. I’m never going to get over two hundred million views. And I may have fifteen year old girls
creaming in their pants, but I’ll leave the underage pussy crushing for Justin Bieber.
I quit smoking a year ago, and for the most part nobody really gives a shit. As long as I still take a drag
on a cigarette on camera, everyone is happy. And I don’t mind. You see, on camera I feel like James
fucking Dean. When the director yells action and I take a puff on those herbal brand cigarettes, I feel
like I’m one hardcore motherfucker that’s wearing a leather jacket. But I’m not on set today. I’m on
some farm in Iowa, smoking and waiting for the ‘fireworks’ to go off. So fuck the last year, I want the
thrill of nicotine in my blood. And I’ll tell you this much. I missed it and I swear to God it missed me.
Nicotine loves celebrities… we make it look cool.
In my early twenties I learned how to blow smoke rings. Have you ever tried that shit? It’s a talent for
sure. Girls might think smoking is disgusting, but blow a few smoke rings their way and the next thing
you know, she’ll be asking you to blow smoke rings post coitus. Don’t believe me, ask Jaime, today’s
bride. Knowing Jaime though, she try and tell you differently, so I’ll tell you the truth.
* * * * *
Location rarely matters when meeting the girl of your dreams. You don’t remember the jerk-offs in the
back playing pool or the stink of the farm hands at the bar or even the leopard printed cougars,
prowling.
I was twenty-one and in what I considered the prime of my life. I wasn’t into acting back then. Instead,
my friends and I would hang around seedy assed bars in dirt poor towns in Iowa. Being a city boy, these
towns were full of unsuspecting women, ready to be hustled by street wise guys like me and my best
friend Derek.
I was hardcore. I smoked, I drank, I did drugs. To impress the ladies, I also danced. And not that
Footloose type of dancing either. Kevin Bacon may have thought he had skills, but fuck Ren McCormack,
I could have taught that guy a thing or two. I was good, a prodigy; a natural. I watched people and saw
how they moved and put it to good use. People are the best resources to learn from. It’s the best way
to learn how to create new dance moves, and what I would find out later, how to act.

2. I got my first taste of being a celebrity in one of those bars. Do you remember that movie Step Up? The
piece of shit girl crush of a movie, where little known Channing Tatum – street thug turned ballerina –
finds his way into the hearts of millions by dancing. Well, unofficially, that movie was completely ripped
off from my daily life.
One night, feeling brave, I danced circles around this one chick’s cowboy of a boyfriend. By the end of
the night she had no choice but to fuck me in the back of her boyfriends Chevy Sierra. A crowd
surrounded the truck during the girl’s fourth orgasm and Derek held the cowboy back so I could finish.
I had a winning track record whenever we went. No matter how the night started, some lucky hussy got
the fucking she deserved. I’ll be honest though, I wasn’t always the spiteful prick I am today. That turn
of events would happen six years later. Back then it was all about the game and how much tail one guy
could collect. Now it’s about breaking egos and taking women down a peg or two. There is no greater
moment in one’s life than making a woman feel like shit because you’ve convinced her she was terrible
in bed.
My friends named me Franky Hollywood. ‘Frank’ because for some God damn reason my parents
named me Francis. Maybe they thought I’d turn out gay. Seriously, do your children a favor and stay
away from names that end in a lisp. And Hollywood because my friends snuck in to a dance
competition I entered, one in which I fucking dominated, powering to victory through the sounds of
Franky goes to Hollywood. Relax… yeah right, I was a champion. Cat out of the bag I couldn’t go back to
being just Francis. So I became Franky Hollywood, a nickname that would last until my viral
breakthrough.
And let’s get passed all the negatives about smoking and get to the real facts. Smoking makes you look
cool. For some reason, putting a small stick in your mouth and inhaling only to blow smoke out makes
you look like the tits. I started smoking behind my parents back. They were the fucking Mr. & Mrs.
Rogers’ of the Christianity community. I danced behind their backs too. And yes, they only shortly
accepted my plight to ‘speak words into a camera.’ All it took was to win an MTV movie award – best
kiss and best actor in a comedy – separate movies thank you very much – to gain their respect.
. . .
There she was, Jaime, clearly underage but who gives a shit. She was seventeen, graduating high school
and had a bright future ahead of her. She brought the house down at the local theatre that year with
her portrayal of Helen Keller in the Miracle Worker. She was fucking impressive and hot enough to
convince NYU to admit her in her freshman year of High School. She had a future ahead of her and I was
about to ruin it.

3. One night, Derek and I went on the prowl searching for a few pieces of skin to wake up to the next
morning. That night Jaime had no clue what was in store for her. I waited and watched as farmer after
farmer, the modern day equivalent of a douchebag, fought over who got to dance with her. From my
understanding, there is only one thing women like more than someone fighting over them, and it’s
being ignored when they really want to be noticed and I was a natural at being aloof.
With the stage set, Derek played the only pop song in the juke box and I decided to strike. Poor girl…
Poor naïve little Jaime, she had no clue that what I was doing had bed my last twelve one-night stands.
By the way, farmers are fucking retarded. These rednecks only know how to two step. Most women
associate a man’s dance skills with bedroom gymnastics. Two stepping is equivalent to rhythmic
missionary… sure it’s fun, but variety is the spice of life, and that is exactly what I offered to Jaime.
My favorite moment the next morning was when Jaime cooked me breakfast in my old elementary
school t-shirt. Tight on me back then, it fit her like a pro, making her b-cup chest shout out like an
attention whore. One man to the next I normally don’t settle for such a low of a cup. I like big tits just
like the next guy, but these were different, they were Jaime’s tits and they held up so proudly in my
shirt.
It’s moments like that that make me think about all the physical shit people lose when they break up.
And I’m not talking about when you break up for the first time, or the second time, or all those little
breaks in between – when she’s unsure she wants to be in the relationship or the times when you see all
those other eye candy, total fuck bunnies that you just want to rail for one day then forget it ever
happened. No, I’m talking about the last time you break up, the forever break-up. The one that makes
you cry, and yes, you do fucking cry, because unlike all those other times you broke up, this one is real.
So you never get to fuck her again or touch her or laugh at her shitty, but cute jokes. You never get to
smell the coffee she just made, or watch her button her jeans, or see her get frustrated while she does
her taxes. You cry because everything for the last six years failed and there is not a god damn thing you
can do about it.
But this moment right now isn’t about the things that I lost in the break-up. Things like that t-shirt, or
the T.V., the car, or my best friend. This moment is about those first three months, when life couldn’t
be better. About convincing me to get out of Iowa and move to the faster pace of New York City. She
got me into Veganism, into acting, into the indie music scene. For my birthday, on a whim, she bought
me singing lessons. She brought a whole new approach to life that I had never expected. A lot of
people would think I jumped the gun. Moving in with a girl before we really knew each other, but it
wasn’t like that… this was destiny. I filled her bucket, and she filled mine. Somewhere down the line
though, I ran out of sand.

4. Jaime was a sparkplug of endless energy. Wine only made it worse. Yes, she was that stereotypical
female ‘amateur’ actress. The one that thinks she needs red wine to make an impact on people. So
yeah, she had her insecurities and she is far from perfect. But in many ways, that’s what made her
perfect. And she accepted my faults. Like my stage fright or my excessive drinking because I couldn’t
find a job, or pay rent, or buy food. She even let Derek move in and sleep on the couch. She supported
me with her student loan while I tried to get my shit together. She was my rock and I eroded her.
The first time she left me was because I was too stubborn to quit smoking. I got up to three packs a day
when she left. I don’t know where she went for those two weeks. She packed a bag and said she was
going out for a pack of smokes. She understood how to use irony. She also knew how to crush a man’s
heart in the matter of seconds. I chased her down the cold streets, in my bare feet no less, because I
didn’t want her to go. I said I would change – we all say that don’t we… truth is, until we lose everything
we don’t change. I told her I would quit and she was nice enough to say I was too late for that. That
night I caught a cold and it only went away when she returned two weeks later.
She was in tears, she was scared and I thought she’d been raped. I’d never seen Jaime in this vulnerable
of a state. Before she stepped foot in the apartment she asked if I was telling the truth. Would I quit for
her? I followed my head nod with three words, words women love to hear, but only if you really mean
it. I told the girl I loved her. Guess what, I fucking meant it. There she was soaking wet, in my grey t-
shirt, her hair a mess. She was the imperfect angel that I moved to New York for. So of course I loved
her.
The first month of quitting was tough as shit. I had lost the one move that got the girl into the sack. A
year into this relationship and I needed to find a new way to scam this little girl into bed. I’d be lying to
all of you to say that sex wasn’t or isn’t important. It’s what keeps any relationship alive. If you don’t
want to rip the clothes off the girl in the middle of a busy restaurant during the dinner rush and fuck her
into next week, get out of the relationship now. Trust me, when a woman keeps you around because
she’s figured out that if she rubs your leg or hints at giving you a blow job or hand job, that ten minutes
later she can ask you to take out the trash. Don’t fall for these tactics. If the selfish bitch cuts you off
from sex or always has a headache or in Jaime’s case ‘was too tired from school,’
GET.THE.FUCK.OUT.NOW! There is only one thing worse than not having sex in a relationship and that’s
when that hot, passionate, dress up and roleplay, S&M bondage shit that you dreamed of when you
were eleven dissipates into an evening of cuddling. I said it before, but maybe you didn’t hear. If a
relationship loses its key ingredient, the butter and eggs of the relationship, get out and don’t look
back. I learned the hard way. But leaving also let me come back into the relationship a new man… a
man of destiny, a man that could smoke!

5. Away from Jaime I learned something. I learned that I didn’t need. Yes, I was ailing. Yes, I missed her.
She was everything I knew for two point five years. For the first month I couldn’t go anywhere without
thinking about her. I passed a store and saw the shoes she liked and it made me want to get a job and
buy them for her. If I did maybe things would be different. It’s funny the things we think about when
we want to make something right again. I wanted sex and I thought the answer was to buy her shoes, or
coffee, or a new toaster – one of the elements went in it a few months back, instead of buying a new
one, we stopped having bagels.
We fought a lot. About how she thought she was a shitty actress and how she thought I was more than
what I gave myself credit for. It sucks that the biggest prize at the end of the relationship was that she
was right, I can act and I am fucking brilliant at it. I was born to be a star. I was just waiting for the right
avenue to come along. I’ll tell you right now, I don’t think jealously played a role in what she did. She
was proud of me. She was our first view, the first of two million. However, deep down, maybe she
really envied other people. Fame can rip people apart, and those last four months of our relationship
tested us to no end. Remember when I said she was my eroded rock? Well in those eight months there
were many tiny earthquakes that led to one very big and final one and let’s just say there wasn’t enough
stability there to hold us together.
During our short two months apart, I booked a gig, a real gig, in a feature film. I was twenty-four and
about to have my first on-screen kiss. I had practiced a few times with the other actress, but when it
came to the day of shooting she had been replaced. An awkward pause went around the crew as they
could tell there was a history between me and the new girl. Then she kissed me and told me ‘we were
actors, we pretend for a living.’ I smiled, she smiled, we kissed on camera and then that night I fucked
Jaime in my trailer for hours until the security guard finally told us to get a hotel room. From that
moment I was hooked. Fuck drugs or booze, you want a real thrill, fuck in public. And thus, lead to the
next two years of our relationship.
For two years all it took was a look and we’d be screwing. It helped keep me motivated to find work,
even if I was just an extra, or a bit part in a T.V. series. You may remember the scene where David
Caruso puts his sunglasses on and says ‘Looks like Humpty Dumpty isn’t getting put back together
again.’ Humpty Dumpty was me. However, what I have learned from my experiences is that there are
people with natural talent, and people who had to study. Entertainment is the only field where this
plays a huge role. A person can’t just call himself a doctor and perform miracle surgeries. A man
doesn’t just decide one day to be a lawyer and walk into a court room and send criminals to jail. Those
fuckers work hard to get where they were, and so did Jaime.

6. Jaime did four hard years at NYU. She grinded it out, she cried, she fake orgasmed, she took Political
Science, English, Sociology and Creative writing, and a shitstorm of other courses, too many to mention.
Jaime loved to act. The passion in her eyes was undeniable. However, she struggled at being natural.
So where she flourished on stage – more important to reach the back of the crowd with your voice and
animated limbs – she failed in film and one day the casting directors stopped calling and with that, she
no longer ‘made time’ for sex. But this time I was too invested to leave. It’s not often a man loves a
woman the way I loved Jaime. I wanted to help, and I found a way. Youtube.
To say we were tactical about it would give us too much credit. Everything was improv’d. To skirt being
pigeon holed as a Lonelygirl15 rip-off, we made it abundantly clear that no matter how real it seemed it
was all fake.
Our first couple videos were terrible. Like just fucking terrible. It was amateur hour at best. It didn’t
help that Derek was completely hapless behind the camera. He improved, but sooner or later we
bought him a tripod and all he had to do was hit record. However, he was also our biggest fan… and
writer. The shit he came up with was spectacular. One webisode was all about how those yellow
rubber gloves have kept women in slavery for years. Suffice to say, as brilliant as it was, it didn’t receive
the fan support. Apparently we went too far when we did a wide shot of Jaime doing dishes and me
whipping her on the back. The crazy part of it all, we weren’t deemed as being racist… it was sexist.
Fucking annoying bra burners and their fucking annoying causes, didn’t they see our disclaimer? The
one that read, ‘This is Purely Fictional.’ I’d hate to read the comments if Jaime were also black.
Our episode ‘Swing Low Sweet Dish Soap,’ was the last of our ‘let’s make a point’ videos. We got more
into us, into me and Jaime. We used ideas out of our daily lives and tried to recreate them. This would
be the format of our final six videos, all leading up to our big hit, the climax that sent Fanky Hollywood
from a Youtube regular to a Youtube star. Somehow, during all this I had become a busy man. I was a
regular guest star on one of the several small T.V. shows in the city… it was very experimental, and only
lasted a few episodes before it got cancelled. Goes to show what kind of a sink-hole FOX really is.
Between set, I was auditioning, landing commercials and finally cashing in on my singing lessons. Being
busy also took away from spending time from Jaime and our little ‘reality’ show and thus in order for it
to continue I became just an actor and Derek and Jaime became the writers.
Let’s lay some groundwork. At the time just before our final video we had amassed over two thousand
subscriptions and getting over twenty to thirty thousand hits on our videos per upload. Not bad for just
an experiment to get my un-natural girlfriend to act more natural. We did this one webisode where
Jaime and I broke up. It was her finest performance, maybe ever. It was so realistic that a support
group on Youtube was formed to help Jaime ‘get through it all.’ The video responses amassed into the

7. thousands and women all over the States talked about the shitty relationships they just gotten out of. It
was a mixed reaction when these same women found out that we just forgot to add on the disclaimer.
For the next few weeks our views took a dive. Isn’t that just like women, not being able to take a joke? I
wish when God created women that he etched the words ‘fragile: handle with care’ somewhere on their
bodies. Because sometimes we forget that even the littlest things send women into what can only be
best described as a ‘five year olds hissy-fit.’ My advice to men, the next time a woman overreacts to
something you say, just sit back and watch her. Just sit there and smile. You may have to sleep on the
couch for the next month but there is no better show than watching a woman being irrational.
With that said, Jaime and I were getting along great. She had really worked hard on letting go of the
terrible habits she had force fed herself when she was younger. She was getting the odd acting gigs
here and there. She had also taken up a hobby, and it’s true what they say… those that cannot do,
teach. She was a smart girl and while at NYU, she filled the requirements to teach in New York City. So
she became a part time drama teacher at a local elementary school. She alluded that it was to teach
those kids to not make the same mistakes she did, but I think she did it because her internal clock was
ticking. She wanted kids and I didn’t. Why would I, life was great, all a child would do is fuck up
everything we were working on.
To say I was nervous about our next video would be a fucking understatement. The idea that Derek and
Jaime wanted to do was far out of my comfort zone. Things are different now. You can listen to any of
my CD’s and know that I have a great voice. That’s not me being boastful, it’s the fucking truth. You
don’t get nominated for New Artist of the Year at the Grammy Awards when you have a piece of shit
voice. Up till that video, the only time I sung was with my vocal teacher or in the shower. Jaime
prodded me to sing with her, to practice so that we could do our duet perfectly, but I didn’t want to. I
don’t know why, but I was still afraid of her criticism. I didn’t want to let down the girl I loved so much.
I know it’s just a silly video, but I didn’t want her to lose respect for me. I told her that the less we
rehearsed the more natural it would be. But I had another reason to be fearful. I had a surprise that
neither Derek nor Jaime would be prepared for.
The concept was for me to serenade Jaime with the song ‘Good to You’ by Mariana’s Trench. Don’t
know who they are, I don’t blame you. It’s just another underrated band out of Canada that gets no
play in the US because it doesn’t sound like that shitstained group Nickleback. To all those die hard
Nickleback fans out there… stop following me on Twitter, stop buying my CD’s or going to my movies. If
you like Nickleback, I will say this once and for all… WE HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON.
We sang it accapella. It was intimate. Just a close-up of me and Jaime. I caressed her cheeks as I sang
into her face. I butted my forehead against hers as I sang the bridge. And Jaime was no slouch. She

8. could sing, but for the first time the scene wasn’t about her. I made it about me. I killed it and I wonder
what Josh Ramsay would think about it. The two million fans seemed to think I nailed it. But then again,
I think the reason the damn thing spread like wild fire was due to the fact that after all the tears and
emotion we’d spent singing, I asked her to marry me. For those that never saw the video, we cut to
black after Derek captured her stunned, deer in headlights, stare.
That’s the thing about ‘viral.’ It is very much a sickness that gets out of control. Expecting only our
regular crowd, we were surprised to see that in the first week we broke a hundred thousand views, then
five hundred thousand. In a week we broke a million, and by the end of the second week we had
amassed just over two million views. The celebration party was amazing. We invited everyone we knew
and everyone they knew to our small apartment. We filled the fucker with as much coke and booze that
we could get. We hit two million views… what would you do. We partied the night away and everyone
admired Jaime and her six thousand dollar engagement ring. Just kidding, there was no celebration.
You see, Jaime didn’t take the proposal lightly. Two factors totally destroyed any legitimacy of it. The
first was that I did it during our show. She thought I was going for ratings. She didn’t take it seriously.
The second factor, the big one she said, was that she knew I didn’t want to have kids. How could she
marry someone who didn’t want kids? Fucking cock-block, right? So when Ellen called and wanted the
latest Youtube sensation on her show, only Franky Hollywood showed up. I quickly deflected questions
about the proposal, saying to stay tuned for the next episode or what I quoted as our ‘season finale.’
But we never shot another video again. Jaime didn’t have an answer for me. When I returned home,
she had moved out. For the first few weeks, I had Ethan Hawke’s ‘The Hottest State’ on repeat in my
DVD player. If you ever been in a ‘relationship’ with a woman who doesn’t want to be in a relationship,
watch the Hottest State.
It wasn’t long before the phone calls started. Two million views gives you some sort of legitimacy. The
fact that I could act, sing and dance didn’t hurt. The joy of making it, of not having to audition anymore,
of getting an agent, of having your name on a trailer comes with a price. Jaime didn’t care that I was an
overnight success. It didn’t impress her. What stood in the way of us staying together wasn’t because I
didn’t try. It was because she felt we were ‘drifting apart.’ I know what drifting apart means. And I
could accept that if it were true. But the truth of the matter is that while I was on Ellen, she hooked up
with Derek. It wasn’t a vengeful thing, she needed to be with someone other than me, and Derek had
put in the time.
Derek had moved out the week before I got back from a show. At least Jaime was nice enough to leave
a note. She was ashamed to tell me why she left, so much so that when she finally told me why, she
broke down in tears. I figured her and Derek had done something. A best friend should never look at

9. another man’s girl the way he did. It seems like I wasn’t the only one in love with this broad. And then
she said the two words that completely destroyed any future together. She was pregnant.
While I was gone, off to Canada to shoot a movie, Derek had a paternity test. If we were on Maury, and
Jaime was just another whore, I could have done my little dance for joy. However, ‘Francis, you are not
the father,’ isn’t the type of phrase you want to hear when it comes to your girlfriend… or ex-girlfriend,
or whatever she was then. I may not have wanted children, but I sure as hell didn’t want the woman I
loved spawning another man’s child. So I packed one suitcase, told her to go to hell, punched Derek in
the face when he tried to apologize to me and never looked back. Why the fuck should I… I was Franky
Hollywood… I was the next big thing.
* * * * *
How do you forgive that? I still haven’t figured it out. That’s why I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t
want to be here. But I am. It was my assistant, Janet that convinced me to go. She said it would be
good for closure. So I brought her as my date. And no, I’ve never fucked her. She may be the only girl
in Hollywood I have no intention to screw. You may think it’s because she’s over two-hundred pounds,
but the real reason is that it’s hard to find good help. She embodies the man I used to be, and is the
only one to keep me in check. She’s going to be pissed though, because she’s one of the few that knows
I don’t smoke. She’ll understand though, right?
. . .
She grabs me to go watch the ceremonies. To watch the love of my life get married to another man.
Maybe it’s just me, but ever since I denounced my love for God I’ve always felt uneasy in churches.
There is just something off about churches that only an outsider to the religion can see – or feel.
Before we sat, I convinced the usher to sit us near the back. His girlfriend was never going to expect
who he sat at the wedding. I chose the back simply for its easy escape routes. If things aren’t going
your way, just back your way out the door. Question for everyone who isn’t as simple as I am: is it
absolutely necessary that the bride come down to her own theme music? I understand that marriage is
a never ending battle, but don’t you think that when the woman you love hustles down the alter like a
fucking boxer heading to the ring, you might be starting this ‘next stage’ of your relationship off poorly.
I didn’t have to look at the invitation to know who she was marrying. I knew before Janet read the
invitation. The moment she uttered ‘you’ve been invited to Jaime Grey’s wedding,’ I knew two things.
One, no matter how much I fought, Janet would make sure I was there. And two, Jaime would be
marrying the father of her child, or children, depending on how busy they had been. So there the
nervous sack of shit stood, with his new ‘best man,’ waiting for his bride to be. A part of me still wanted

10. to rush up and punch him in the nose, but you know how tabloids are. The last thing my rep needs is a
picture of me feeding my ex-best friend exactly what he deserves… the taste of my right heel.
Janet elbowed me in the gut. Apparently it’s not polite to hum the Rocky theme song over Pachelbel’s
‘Cannons.’ People are so uptight at weddings. Let loose, it’s not you that’s going to relationship hell. It’s
them. Ever since I’d watched Wedding Crashers I’d always had the dream of fucking a stranger at a
wedding. Fortunately this wedding had no shortage of available candidates. Unfortunately that quickly
ended when I saw Jaime. She was glowing, simply fucking glowing. I may have been the most famous
person in the place, but all eyes fell on her, mine included.
I think there are some people in the world that no matter how old we get, when we see them again, we
want to be with them. After I left Jaime, it took me six months until I could finally spend an entire week
not thinking about her. It’s only been recently that she became an afterthought. Hell, I was knee deep
in groupies, and fall back girls from award shows, I didn’t need to think about love. Why buy the cow
when you get the sex for free, right? She was but a memory, until today. Today I wanted her back.
When the chance came to ‘speak up,’ I spoke in the only way Franky Hollywood knew how to. I stood up
on the pew and sang. I brought it all back to that one day, the day I took her dreams of being an actress
away and drove her into the arms of another man. I sang the song with an undying passion, thinking if I
can just reach past her ego, I could win her back. As I walked down the aisle towards her, it was nearing
her part. Luckily Derek knew better than to separate soul mates. As I got to the chorus, I held her hands
and looked deep into her eyes. At that moment I stopped and knew right then that she wasn’t going to
sing back. She would never sing back. She had become a statistic. Her dreams had shifted. She didn’t
want to act, or sing. She wanted to be a mom. She always did. And I didn’t want to be a dad, but Derek
always did. So at that moment it all became clear. It was even. She lead me to the life I was always
meant to lead and I lead her to the man she was always meant to marry. Their bastard child was pretty
cute too.
I didn’t stay for the rest of the ceremony. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed of my actions. How many of
you can look back at moments of your life and say ‘at least I tried.’ I left because I didn’t need to be
there anymore. They had their life, and I had mine. So I kissed Jaime on the cheek, and shook Derek’s
hand and left.