>be Evan, two months earlier, a couple of weeks before Jason kills himself.

>Looking at porn on his laptop.

>Jason barges through his bedroom door.

>I gotta show you this fucking song, man, he says, brandishing a black CD.

>Evan snaps at him, NOT NOW, DAMMIT.

>No, but seriously, it's the new Black Keys, it's awesome, here, I want you to hear it.

>Jason loves showing Evan new music and usually Evan likes hearing it, but not when he's got his lubed- up dick in his hand under the covers.

>Jason commandeers Evan's ancient stereo up on his dresser, tapping the open button. The tray slides out.

>Not now, Jason, I'm busy, Evan says, his boner shrinking into his pants like a mouse into a hole. He discreetly tries to shift the covers, attempting to block anything that may be visible.

>He hides his laptop screen with his free hand, slowly shutting it.

>Jason doesn't listen, puts CD in Evan's stereo, hits play.

>The first track starts.

>Just this one song, Jason says.

>A heavy handed drumbeat and bass thump begins. It's bluesy, low, a pumping bass riff, falsetto vocals.

>Isn't this the shit? Doesn't this sound like something a stripper would dance to?

>I already told you I'm not interested, Jason, I don't fucking care.

>Jason looks at him, realizes he's not wanted.

>Looks like he might get mad, but then shrugs.

>All right then, Jason says. He removes the CD and leaves.

>Thanks for knocking, says Evan as Jason shuts the door behind him.