[ WP ] Begin with the sentence , `` I am alone , but I am happy '' .

`` I am alone, but I am happy.'' 
 
 `` What? Are you serious. There are fifteen hundred people out there, over two thirds of which have come just to see you. 
 
 `` I'm doing my zen truth thing man. Let me be.'' 
 
 `` Right of course.'' He left quickly. 
 
 `` I am alone but I am happy.'' The lie tasted bitter on his lips. He stood to do his stretches and saw the room. Not just saw it but Saw it. 
 
 Flowers and beer bottles. The deck of cards in case he wanted to play. A bong with weed packed already in case he wanted to get high. There was even a pile of head shots. 
 
 `` Fucking LA.'' He said leafing through them. They were all gorgeous. Anyone of them would do things to him for free that he would have had to pay thousands of dollars for three years ago. Fuck! These two were sisters. 
 
 What had ever happened to the music? That's what it had been about long before it was about the girl. Then it was about her of course, then the drugs and many girls. 
 
 There was even that nervous guy in Arizona. He had n't liked it too much but when you had everything you found you got bored a lot faster. 
 
 Then there was more drugs and more girls. The music stopped being his a long time ago. They bought pieces from sad little men trying to break into the business. 
 
 Hell it was hardly even his voice for most of it. Fucking computers. 
 
 He had n't got the door fully open before Brandon was there. 
 
 `` Can I get something for you?'' A fucking key for this cage. He thought looking at the kid. 
 
 `` How much do you make a year?'' He asked instead. 
 
 `` I'm... I'm an intern, I hoped to maybe get some inspiration for my own music.'' Another fucking leach. 
 
 `` See if you can dig up Big Red.'' He closed the door and waited. 
 
 `` I am alone but I am happy.'' He said again. He was amazed the curtains did n't burst into flame with the lie. 
 
 The guitar they brought was the first one he owned. The drunk on third street had sold it to the pawn shop in town. When he got it it only had two strings. His fingers found those two and played the first rift he ever wrote. Only two strings and yet so full of life. 
 
 There was a blanket on the leather sofa. He wrapped the guitar up and headed for the door. He did n't even respond to the questions until he found Charlie. She was a small thing, happy for the work, more happy to be away from a dad that beat her or worse. 
 
 `` You once said you were always ready to run?'' He asked her stopping her from hauling whatever it was she had. She nodded. 
 
 `` I need to go.'' There was a pause. A long one where he felt himself being measured but some scale he had never seen. 
 
 `` I made a copy of his key when he had me detail it last year.'' She said setting the box down and digging in her pocket. She produced a ring containing no less than five keys from different companies. 
 
 `` This one. His silver BMW, they took it off the flatbed only hours ago.'' 
 
 She did n't need to say who He was. In a way it was him. He was stealing his own car. But the He she meant was the famous one. Not the one that had heard a homeless girl singing and decided to give her a place in his apt. No sex, no nothing just space for a fellow artist. 
 
 When had he even bought a silver BMW? 
 
 Outside he was behind the driver's seat with only one hiccup. One of the bouncers. The man did n't seem to know if he should let him go. In the end, with no words spoken, he steeped out of the way. 
 
 The parking lot was a fucking nightmare. Rave gear and tailgates. Fifty year old men, no doubt waiting for daughters and wives, sat around and drank and watched the young tail. 
 
 `` Oh My God! That's him.'' One of the girls screamed but her friends did not believe her and she tripping trying to jump out of the bed of the pickup. 
 
 Then, before he knew it, he was one the open road going way too fast. 
 
 He was laughing with a raw edge that told him he was a bit mad. He had to figure out the cruise control. Had he ever even driven this car before? 
 
 8 miles on the odometer. No wonder it was on the flat bed. Must have been 0 there. 
 
 He turned on the radio. There was one of his songs. One of the new ones. He changed the channel until he found a station playing songs from when he was in high school. 
 
 He screamed out the open window, and this time he meant it. 
 
 `` I am alone, but I am happy.''
