So with no nearest and dearest to call, he considers a suicide note, but this begs the question of who the f**k would read it? He supposes that the band's new legions of fans might be morbidly interested in it, especially following what was going to happen tonight. He finds he doesn't care, though, and again, the thought strikes him as bitterly funny. Not so long ago, he'd liked the romantic rock n' roll fantasy of live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse and a poignant suicide letter behind. Now, the thought is as depressing as it is terrifying, and just about the last thing he cares about is leaving some parting words for the band's fans to ponder and weep over. He still finds it hard enough to accept that they even have that many fans. If he hadn't seen the posters, the news
