Skwisgaar remembered the initial explosion of chaos and anger and rage. He remembered it because it was almost exactly how things were now, only in reverse. He took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and looking back at Miniver. "When I was young. I came into the studio and interrupted you. You were playing guitar, and I wanted to tell you how I felt about you. I came in to tell you I had fallen in love with you, even though you had always taken your aggression out on me. We were alike in a way that kills us a little to think about or remember, but I have put that part of my past aside. It was painful and hurtful and the only reason I carried it was the spite that fueled me to make the music I did." He stood and nodded to his seat, deciding he'd guard the door instead, since you know, he was taller.
"It was that day that you broke your hand instead of my face. I'll never forget it, or the anger and hate I saw in your eyes. You have never hated me. You've hated yourself. And I've never hated you, either. I know how it feels. And even if I'm not smart, or very good at a lot of things, I do know how it feels to hate myself because of shit that happened long, long ago. Miniver, I never stopped loving you, though I'll never proposition you again. You're a far better man than you ever give yourself credit for. It breaks my heart."