535 Hayden, Toronto CA

My days were getting more and more boring, my only real sense of enjoyment anymore is playing downtown, on the corner of Tremont and Boylston. I still don’t have a job, still don’t know who’s trying to sabotage me, both of my love interests have fled, My best friend works too hard, and I don’t work enough.

I went to my Gym, and got my morning workout on. The radio had this new song from a new artist on the same label as me called “Bad Bitches” by Rocko Flocko. It was awful, and it instantly made me think of Bonnie. But why was it on the radio, I could be making so much better music, and so much more money for the label, if they would just fucking let me. Good thing I was working out, I got kinda worked up there.

I came up and took a shower, dried off and put on my robe. I went into the kitchen to get a snack, then went back to get dressed. When I grabbed my phone I noticed I had one missed call. It was from the one the only, Nicole.

“Hey Sterling, Listen, I feel like I owe you one, since I wrote that story about you in the first place. If your interested, come to my office today at some point, I have something for you, and its not dinner and a show, Bye…… Click” There was a long pause at the end it kind of sounded like she wanted to say something more but resisted.

Perfect I was already all cleaned up.

When I arrived, I was fairly efficient; I knew the lay of the land now and went straight to Nicole’s Office. When I got it we both blushed, yep she still felt it too.

“Hello Mr. Jones”

“Hi Mrs. Spores, I got your message.”

“So it seems, here this is for you, you can’t listen to it anywhere in this building, if you do I will know, and I will take it back. Do it in the privacy of your own home. It’s Best. Trust Me” She handed me a small recording device, the one she uses for interviews. Oh boy.

I got home, and couldn’t wait any longer, I threw it down on the table, What the fuck was going to happen now. I hit play, and then I immediately knew why she said to do it in my own home. I screamed so loud, I angered god, I could not believe what I heard.

Not only had I found out who my tormentor was, but I also lost a friend, forever. Byron, loud and clear all over her recording machine was his voice, telling made up stories of me and him doing copious drugs, driving drunk, hiring strippers. It was hard to listen to, how could a friend of so long, sell me out all to make some money. Was he jealous? I just couldn’t del with his shit anymore it was tearing all fo us apart, but this was the final straw it ends here.

I listened to the whole tape though, and then on the final question it slipped, “So what is a fine woman like yourself doing in Toronto?” straight from Byron, got him. I popped open the recorder, took the cassette, and realized there was a sticky note on the back, it was an address “535 Hayden Lane” and there was a little note written from Nicole. “Hope it doesn’t rain on your parade in Toronto, good luck!” Man was she good.