Life can be so cruel sometimes. Just when you think that you have found something solid, something worth holding on to, life decides that it's time to destroy your world and shake things up a bit, obliterating any solidity that you thought you had found.

Another year had slipped away, with excitement, noise and great amounts of alcohol. There was screaming and cheering, and people making out, to celebrate the brand new year. A new start.

I went looking for Lindsay, wondering where she was. The ball had dropped, and I couldn't find her, which was kind of disappointing, because I had great plans for this celebration. Lindsay had been avoiding the subject for weeks now, but tonight I was determined to address the issue of making a commitment. Her to me and I to her. It was simple. I wanted to be with her, and I wanted some verification that those feelings were being reciprocated.

I wandered around, growing more agitated as I asked more and more people if they had seen her, and they kept saying that they had no idea. I searched everywhere for her, and so far had found no trace of her. I was very frustrated.

I met Lindsay at a party and she just struck me as someone who would suit me. So I started talking to her, and before I knew it, we had been dating for a year. Not much of a romantic story, is it? But then again, Lindsay was never one for romance. She found it all so cheesy and said that real romance didn't exist. She would scold me if I brought her flowers. But the reason our relationship worked so well was that we just suited each other.

Lindsay was in charge of a lot of things. This I can say with no pretence of male pride. Lindsay is in control of our relationship. The guys tease me, saying that she "wears the pants" in the relationship. But she did. Whatever she said, I did.

During my search, I unfortunately came upon a few star-struck women who had come with their boyfriends, who were members of the crew. They trapped me and demanded to know if I'd seen some other celebrity singer who was supposedly at the party. They were looking for Dana Cyprus, a musician whose name gave me headache. I couldn't stand her voice, her lyrics, her melodies, her personality. I politely excused myself from the two drunk women and continued my search for Lindsay, cursed with a Dana Cyprus song stuck in my head, as they had begun to sing it. Three keys off from it's usual annoying pitch.

After about ten more minutes, I finally found her. She was outside, behind the pool house. When I saw her, I was a little surprised to find her out there, but I drew closer to her, trying to both sneak up on her and figure out what she was doing out here, when I saw him.

Our tour manager, Alex. Brian had invited him just out of propriety, and politeness, as some unintelligent person had mentioned it in front of him. No one particularly enjoys the company of someone as tight assed as him. In fact there were many occasions where I had to hold back from railing him when he refused to lighten up on certain subjects while touring. The fool had thought he could instate a rule that barred all girlfriends and significant others from touring with us. We told him to go to hell.

And there she was. And there he was. There they were. Together. It disgusts me to even describe what they were doing. I turned from the vulgar sight and walked very calmly into the house.

"Watch where you're going," an aggravated voice called out as I bumped someone's shoulder.

"Sorry. Excuse me," I said, distractedly, as I tried to maneuver past the insulted person.

"I don't think you are," she said, clearing not willing to accept the apology and let the slight intrusion on her personal space drop without a scene. I sighed.

"Really, I am. Please accept my sincere apology, I wasn't watching where I was going," I said, a hint of sarcasm noticeable in my voice. The sight of Lindsay with Alex had hardened into a big knot of rage that I was desperate to be rid of, even if it meant retaliating against this rude woman.

"You know, all these stupid pop stars around here need to learn that even though a bunch of eight year olds seem to worship their empty, meaningless music, they can't just go around bullying people," she raged.

"Pardon me? Empty music? Look, I made a mistake when I bumped into you, but it does not give you the right to insult me, or the work of myself and my band mates. And it's not meaningless!" I raged, losing the edge of my control. This woman had asked for it.

"No, all it does is teach little kids that it's okay to use bad grammar and that if you're a pretty boy who can dance, you can sell millions of albums without any talent at all," she retorted.

"Sure, maybe if you're Dana Cyprus," I muttered under my breath, thinking again of the song that had been playing in my sub-conscious for the worse ten minutes of my life. Her eyes widened with anger and she spun around and stormed off.

"Kev, you should really make sure you know who you're arguing with next time. She just happens to be the singer you just insulted," Brian said, as the few people who had gathered around slowly dispersed.

"Then why the hell is she here?" I demanded.

"She came with Alex. I guess she's his girlfriend or something," Brian answered, shrugging his shoulders. He fell silent, and I noticed that he looked like something was bothering him. But the mention of Alex's name had me seeing red, and I knew that I had to get out of there before something more embarrassing then that stupid argument happened to me.

"Whoever she is, I just found out that it's possible to hate someone in the first instant you meet them," I said to him, as I made my way through the door.

"Hey, Kevin, did you make a resolution?" he called, out of nowhere. I thought for a minute.

"My resolution is to run as far as I can from any girl I meet that just suits me," I answered bitterly, to his bewilderment.