“I want you to imagine a car driving down the highway.”
“Start it off slow, go the speed limit and let it get its bearings.”
“Now take that car and hit the gas, put the pedal to the metal and watch it slowly speed up, going fifty, sixty, seventy, all the way until it’s flying down the road over a hundred miles an hour.”
“Shit looks dangerous, don’t it?”
“Imagine it swerving, losing control because it’s going too fast to handle. Asphalt heating up, horns blaring.”
“Once a car is going this fast and this reckless, there’s only one way it’ll end.”
“With a big fuckin’ death pop when it slams into the railing and goes toppling off of the highway into a ditch below.”
“Car on fire.”
“Driver fuckin’ dead with his his head through the window.”
“But hey, at least he had fun, right?”
“See, Zander, your little rock career was a whole fuckin’ lot like a sports car getting on the road for the first time. You started off nice and slow, lettin’ every douchebag and airheaded girl get a look at your style while you head bang and belt out shitty lyrics at every turn. Gotta go slow to get those eyes on you, right? The fans?”
“But once those eyes were on you, you had to show off, you had to go bigger, go faster.”
“Put the smoke in your lungs, the pedal on the floor, the needle in your veins.”
“With every new high, another mile on the speedometer, you know you have to go as fast as you can until you’ve lost all fuckin’ control.”
“And before you knew it your bandmates, those passengers? They were begging you to stop.”
“But you didn’t.”
“The car screeched off the road, your career went off the rails and when you crashed into that wall you flew so far down hill that all you left behind was an outline of what used to be a successful career, a burning pile of what used to be a sports car.”
“See, here’s where we differ, Zane.”
“We’re both on the same road, but while you’re out there swerving across every lane begging for attention and admiration? I’m out here on the roads in my lane watching, waiting.”
“I can do something big whenever I want to, Zander. As soon as you try and get back on the road I’ll be there slamming you right back into that ditch.”
“Your time as a big star are done, your career’s up in fuckin’ smoke and the road belongs to me.”
“Step out of that ditch one more time and it’ll be the last fuckin’ step you take.”
“No more smoke in the lungs.”
“No gas in your tank.”
“Just a hatchet in your face and blood on my shirt.”
“Stay down where you belong, Rockstar.”
“Or it’s about to be nighty night time.”