I remember the day the stranger came.
Opened up his guitar case, pulled out a contract, and handed me a pen.
“Sign here,” he said. “I’ll make your name last forever.”
I said no, but so many said yes.
And now this girl, Amy.
The stranger’s men keep close tabs. When you’re worth more dead than alive, the party ends, and your friends find you with a needle sticking out of your arm.
Not me. I had my moment, but I outlived it.
Living legend?
No. A living ghost.
My hands, my head, my everything hurts.
But I’m still going.