Recommended for readers 17] due to sexual situations, violence, and language. "Who are you?" I quietly ask myself. The image in the mirror that stares back at me, feigns disinterest. Rock star? Recovering addict? Murderer? How can you explain to someone what it's like not to care. Not about yourself or the person standing next to you. I've lost that inside of me, the ability to feel and show affection. I have a heart. Sometimes when I chase the dragon, it thunders through my head like a drum, reminding me that it still beats. It's still there. Just...hollow. Empty. Wasted. My agent says I have one more shot. A single solitary chance to stay in the music biz; however, there is one massive problem. HER.