It was supposed to be a one-night stand, a way to relieve stress hurled onto him which made his muscles ache and his head spin. It was to make him forget everything for a moment. After all that's happened, he needed a place of refuge to get away from public criticism. It was supposed to be the end of him being depressed and the start of a new positive energy to keep him going forward for him and his team. He wanted that night to let him wander off into oblivion and bliss and narcissistic pleasure in order to build up his confidence and self-esteem long destroyed like an old sturdy wall being hammered down into ruins.

His team had unfortunately got caught in the sticky web of blitz and paparazzi all because of him jokingly blurting out a silly line which got stupidly misinterpreted by anyone and everyone. He predicted that his team would go spiralling back down into the depth of darkness and the underground where he once came from. And it was because of their loyal fans who stood by them and supported them and comforted them like good old petrol for an old rickety truck just hanging onto its dear life expectancy reaching its end, that a small tinge of hope was still lingering inside him like a sturdy lighted wax candle standing strong despite the ferocious wind billowing past.

That night, a new candle was lighted and a new form of determination to climb back up and to be responsible for his wrongdoing coarsed though his synapses like adrenaline surged through his veins. However, unfortunately, he failed to predict a tsunami of disaster coming straight at him like how a dormant volcano suddenly erupts, all because of a little mistake, a little precaution he failed to check; a torn .