I remember you once told me that it takes a monster to catch a monster. That was the first sign that you were having a problem dealing with the seedier side of show business. And I ignored it.
Somehow, I had this idea in my head that because you were doing something creative, you were also above the whole obsession with success thing that seems to plague people in this industry.
I don't know why. I suppose it's because I'm a writer, so I tend to think everyone is like me.
The second sign I ignored.
We were having a conversation once, and you told me that you had to convince a puppet to tell on the person that was molesting it.
Yes, you heard me right. A puppet was being molested.
It's sick and twisted, but quite frankly I can't blame the poor thing for not wanting to identify the culprit. If it were me, I wouldn't either. But then that's part of the whole obsession thing again.
This sick bastard was actually molesting a puppet and you didn't report him. When you told me that, I should have gotten you the hell out of this business. Really, it would be for the best. With all the craziness that goes on here, who knows what could happen? But I didn't.
Now, the third sign.
Your play opens tonight.
The first preview tomorrow night went off without a hitch. You said the music sounded better than it had all week. I'm sure that's a relief to you. I wish I could be there to see it. I'm sure it'll be good, and I know you'll be great.
But I won't see it. I'm sorry.
It's for the best.
I'm done with this business now.
I suppose I could go into writing scripts for stage instead. It would still be telling stories, and that's why I fell in love with it in the first place.
Don't call me or look for me. I'll be okay. I'm sure we both will. I'll leave by the back door.
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