The Split

In April, Madhouse finally released Nebula. Alan, as usual, did his best to promote the album, but by that point, he was a little bit busy with both his own band and the other bands signed to Revelation Records. Despite this, Nebula did quite well. Within a few weeks, Florence was climbing up the alternative charts, and album sales looked like they might be even higher than our debut. It was clear by the end of the month that Nebula would be no sophomore slump.

I used the money that I earned from the album to purchase a mansion in Studio City. The apartment that I had at the time was rather far from the Revelation Records building, and the new house would be larger and much closer to the studio. The only downside was that it would be much farther from Robin's apartment.

After I purchased the mansion, I decided to throw a housewarming/album success celebration party. I invited all of my friends over to my house and made a few appetizers, despite my awful cooking skills, in hopes of impressing my guests.

On the day of the party, everyone from Revelation Records arrived. Within a few hours, my house was swarming with people. As it turned out, Alan had invited a few additional friends to my party, which, as I later learned, was typical behavior for Alan at parties.

I wandered around my new house, talking to everyone from record producers to members of other bands. It only occurred to me after several hours of socializing that I hadn't seen Robin at all.

I searched around until I found Robin listening to Against Me! in the living room. "Bianca, I need to talk to you," he said.

"What is it?" I asked.

"This just isn't working," Robin said. "I feel like this band is stifling my creativity, and I need to be in my own band."

"Come on, Robin," I said. "Don't be silly. You love being in Madhouse."

"Not anymore," Robin said. "Bianca, I've already thought this over, so don't try to convince me otherwise. I'm moving back to Seattle, and Colin and I are going to start a brand new band called The Wallbangers. This is nothing against you or Kyle. I just want to do my own thing."

"What about our relationship, Robin?" I asked. "I want to stay with you for as long as we can."

"I love you too, Bianca, but I need to start over," Robin said. "If I'm going to do that, I need to end our relationship too."

"Robin, no!" I said. "Please don't do this to us. We can make it work."

A few tears began to fall from Robin's eyes. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, Bianca," he said as he turned around and left the house.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as I watched him leave. I tried to ignore pain gnawing at my chest and return to the party, but Robin's departure had created a hole in my heart that just wouldn't leave.

The next day, I went to the Revelation Records building and cleaned out Robin's stuff. He had already taken his guitar, but he had left a variety of other things in the studio, from a tuner to notebooks filled with song lyrics to an Offspring poster. I packed it all away. Robin was gone, and it was best to simply move on with Madhouse without him, as much as it hurt.

After that was done, I wrote a letter to our fans and posted it on the Madhouse website.

To our wonderful Madhouse fans:

Madhouse has been through a lot over the last year or so while working on Nebula. The album itself turned out wonderfully, and I am very proud of it. However, I would like to inform you of a few changes that are going on in our band.

Robin and I have been close friends since high school. When he asked me if I wanted to join his band, it was only natural for me to say "yes." I had never been in a band before Madhouse, but Robin was the best person to go on this adventure with. He was the visionary behind the band, even as we expanded to include Kyle and Colin. Robin and I have been through so much together, and it saddens me that he won't be with us for those amazing experiences going forward.

Yesterday, Robin told me that he and Colin were leaving Madhouse to start a band called The Wallbangers. This news was just as much of a surprise to me as it is for you. Although I look forward to seeing what Robin and Colin will do in the future, Kyle and I will both greatly miss having them in Madhouse with us.

The Forever Planetary Summer Tour with Hogwash Assassins will continue as scheduled, and Kyle and I expect to have a touring guitarist lined up within the next few weeks to take Robin's place on tour.

I love you all, and thank you so much for your support.

Love,

Bianca Madison

The letter didn't quite reflect everything that I wanted to say, but how could words ever express how I felt about Robin? He had been everything to me - both as a bandmate and as a boyfriend - and now he was gone. I tried to call him several times to ask him if he needed any help moving to Seattle, but he wouldn't respond to me. It was as if Robin wanted me out of his life completely.

Within a few weeks, we found a touring guitarist. I don't remember his name, since I hired Lena almost immediately after the Forever Planetary Tour, but the important part was that he wasn't Robin. I knew that it would feel strange having a new guitarist on stage with us, but I didn't realize just how strange it would be until I got there.

The venue we were playing at for our first stop on tour was quite a bit smaller than the venues that we had played at when opening for Phantom Cat, but we were headlining. Madhouse had never headlined a tour before, so it was a little bit scary, especially without Robin. Thankfully, we had a little bit of time before going onstage.

I talked to Rhett Barlow, the lead singer of Hogwash Assassins, briefly before he went on. From our quick conversation, I learned that his band had been friends with Phantom Cat before they signed to a major label and got famous, which explained why Alan had bothered to sign Hogwash Assassins onto Revelation Records.

Hogwash Assassins was, in fact, a surprisingly good band. They played an unusual variety of experimental hard rock, but the audience seemed to like it. Halfway through their set, I even found myself bouncing up and down to the beat. However, my nerves returned when they finished their set and Madhouse had to go on.

We started off with The Call, the first track off of Nebula, and then played through the set. I tried to ignore our touring guitarist, who couldn't quite get all of the notes yet, and sing, but it was nearly impossible not to think of Robin as I sang the words that he helped me write. I would have to stay strong if I wanted to make it through the show.

Madhouse made its way through the setlist, interspersing songs off of Nebula with old favorites from Madhouse. However, the audience wanted to hear one song: Florence. I knew that Florence was becoming a fan favorite, but I never realized just how much our fans loved it. In their eyes, Florence was the only song worth hearing in the whole set, which was why Kyle suggested saving it for the encore.

We made it through the main set without any problem, so we figured that it would be the same when we returned to the stage to play Florence. It seemed wrong to play the song that Robin wrote without him, but the fans wanted to hear it, so we had to play it. Madhouse could afford to skip Black Hole, but not Florence.

I took an acoustic guitar onstage with me, and began to sing the love song that Robin had serenaded me with after Alan's wedding. Had it really been only a few months since that happened? How had our bond deteriorated that quickly?

I tried to play the chords to the song, but my hand kept shaking. I couldn't keep it steady when thoughts of Robin were swimming through my head.

Robin was gone, I told myself. He was gone, and he wasn't coming back.

Tears flooded my eyes when I got to the chorus, but I tried to keep singing. This was a concert, and I had to give them the show that the audience had paid for. However, I couldn't get myself to stop crying. The words of the song came out blubbery and distorted as I wept over my lost love.

I promised myself that I would never again play Florence, no matter how many times the fans asked.