Have you heard of Richard Cranium?

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Montreal Studio

Tuesday April 3rd

7 AM

Pierre

You know things are going real shitty if Chuck's looking at you like you're dirt on his shoes. Which was what he was doing to me just about now. I'd just arrived at the studio, stuffing my face with a bagel I'd grabbed on the way. And as soon as I walked through the door he was on my case.

"You're late."

"Huh?" I grunted, swallowing. "It's too early for me to be late."

Chuck rolled his eyes, grabbed my shirt and practically shoved me onto a chair.

"What the fuck?" I glowered at him. "What is your damage?"

"You're late," he repeated.

"Yeah right. No one else is here." Which is true. I mean seriously, we don't even officially start until, like, 10 AM. The only reason I was early was because I liked to sit in the solitude of the studio and think about things whilst having my breakfast.

Chuck stared hard at me then growled in disgust. I knew he wasn't really mad at me for being late. Something else had pissed him off. So, I waited, breaking off bits of bagel and pressing them into my mouth, savouring the sweet sugary taste.

Chuck paced the floor in front of me.

I smirked. "You'll wear a hole in the floor if you keep doing that. I don't think the people on the lower level would appreciate us falling on top of them."

He shot me an evil glance. "Just shut up. You've really done it now, Bouvier."

Huh? What is he talking about? "What are you talking about, Comeau?"

Chuck turned to face me and now he just looked tired. Beaten down, as if he was just sick of me, or something. "Marly called me an hour ago."

I blinked. "Oh."

"Oh? Oh? That's all you can say? Oh?"

I shrugged. I really didn't understand his problem. "Yeah? What of it?" I finished off my bagel, licking my fingers and looked around. "Is the pot on? I need a coffee."

"Fuck that!" Chuck slammed his palms on the arms of the chair and leaned into my face. "You're a fucking asshole. Y'know that? You're sick. You don't even fucking care, do you?"

I leaned back from him, surprised by the viciousness of his verbal attack. I didn't think that he had it in him, but obviously he did.

Narrowing my eyes at him I leaned forward so our noses were barely touching. "What did she want?"

"She wanted to know what I had to say to her about you." Chuck's voice was strained. "I sent her an email the other day."

I clenched my jaw, the muscles tightening as I gritted out harshly, "What did you tell her?"

"The truth."

I growled low in my throat. Not good.

He sighed and stepped back, sinking down on a chair next to me. "Don't worry, I didn't tell her everything."

Heh, he must be a mind reader... but what did he tell her?

"Only that you didn't love her. Never loved her."

There you go... I had no response to that, so I remained silent.

Chuck peeked at me. "You don't seem too bothered by that."

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