Sorry, Lin, there's nothing we can do," said a man of medium height.

with dark hair.

It was my manager Rolan.

We were sitting in a cafe discussing the situation I was in.

The problem was the label I was signed to.

Like many young artists, I'd signed a contract where I got advances but lost the rights to my music.

I realized it could be the end, but the money was too attractive.

"Is there nothing at all?" I said.

"No, the contract you signed transfers all your work to the label, you knew what you were getting into. I can't help you," Roland replied.

"And I think we should stop working together, they won't let you make music, so all plans are over."

"I understand," Lin replied with a straight face.

Roland got up and left the cafe and Lin stayed sitting.

After a long time he got up, walked out, took a taxi and went home.

---

When he got home, he lay down on the sofa and poured himself a strong drink.

When he thought about the whole situation, it seemed to him that his life had been broken into a thousand pieces, taking away years of his work.

Losing his raison d'être, he pulled out the only joy he had left - drugs.

He took a joint and smoked it. He mixed some lean with all kinds of synthetics and drank it in one gulp. He lay down on the sofa and fell asleep.

eternal sleep