Within four years, Lavinia received her degree in sociology and, with the approval of her professor, was employed in the Department of civil education for young people at the neighboring University of Harbor.

Vince alongside all these years, making countless concerts around the world, made a huge fortune and an indelible reputation as he wished.

His songs were a huge success worldwide and he was only twenty-seven years old. He never stopped, despite his manager's notifications.

One night at a club, he fainted from excessive alcohol. Something was missing. His insistence on partying until he's dead didn't fill that void in his soul. Even though he insisted that this was real happiness.

Just before going on stage to sing, one step before the lights and the apotheosis of the public, he was trying to hide frantically the insecurity of his sudden fear. He was frightened by the negative judgment of his fans.

He pulled from his pocket some cocaine dust and blew through his nose, resting his head on the wall comforting. The manager noticed and pulled him a little further backstage until they announced his name. "How are you gonna sing, Vince? Stumbling?" he scolded him.

"And how do you want me to keep singing, Ray? Rolling down?" he yelled dizzy.

"Do you know how many stomachs broke in those corners before the stage? And how much after a party on the way home? I warned you. It's a tough profession. You need a strong stomach. Come on, snap out of it. You'll be out soon."

Ray made up his jacket and the makeup artist fixed his sweaty face. He took a few sips of alcohol and went on stage. He was not conscious of the time.

The headlights and bright lights dazzled his vision, while the crowd below him glorified him. The band waited for his signal patiently to start the program when his knees bent.

He stood still with his head down, making people wonder if it was a figure move or something was happening to him. His agent was standing nervous backstage trying to warn him. "Vince! Vince! Get up!"

He raised his hand dizzy giving a signal to the band. He stood up again and started singing and dancing with whatever powers he had. The concert was live all over Canada. It was his last one just before the Tour in Europe.

Patrick and Betty watched him from the TV, puzzled, while the sound of the music announced in Lavinia the start of the concert.

"He looks very exhausted," Betty commented.

"I heard he's in trouble," Patrick said.

"What is it?" Lavinia asked, dismayed.

"He drinks a lot, he definitely uses drugs. Here a recent publication in the journal says that 'the promising singer who's in a hurry to be destroyed, mimicking the path of several others." Patrick explained.

Lavinia frowned. "I need to talk to him," she whispered.

"He kicked you out and told you that you were jealous of him and you want to talk to him? Tell him what?" her sister reacted. "After all, today in Toronto is his last appearance. Tomorrow begins a world tour." she went on.

Vince out of breath bowed to the audience. He blinked and lowered his head. He just stood there and satisfied his cheering fans. Inside he felt a void. And he understood that the nonexistent emotions were beginning to fill with negativity. And not with the supposed joy he was expecting. The endless applause of the world was the solace of the moment that lured him to escape from his despair.

He went back to the hotel feeling a sense of anger. He was snorting frowned, pulling a few cocaine noses, drinking plenty of alcohol. He was looking out the limo window at his fans in the courtyard of the stadium, clapping and shouting infinite words of love.