"Yeah," I whispered.
"You know you can tell me anything."
I bit my lip, "I can't go on tour."
"What?" he questioned.
"I can't go," I tried to not cry.
"Why not?" he worried, "Why does Richie get on the way of everything?"
"It's not Richie," I lied.
"Then who the fuck is it?" He questioned himself as he kicked a can into the cement wall.
"It's me," I said.
"Bullshit," he argued.
I didn't know what to do at that moment. I just stood there and stared at him with my worried expression.
"Tell me, goddammit!" He cried in anger.
"Please," I cried, "Just listen to me."
He stood there with a sad look on his face as he rubbed his forehead and looked down, crying.
"Jon," I cried, "I don't want to cause you guys any harm. Thats why I'm leaving. I can't do it of your band hates me, mostly your best friend."
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