First of all, this story is a total work of my messed up imagination. Second, do I know Hanson? Well, maybe. But did this happen? Certainly not.

And another thing, some of you, the more sensitive or "upbeat" readers out there might want to take your guards. This story isn't about dancing flowers and sunshine and lollipops, it's about depression, suicide, and self-mutilation. Why? Because. I'm damn sick of these fantasy-lovey lovey stories.

Which brings another thing to mind. By writing and posting this story, I am not saying our Tay is suicidal. I'm not saying he's depressed or has no self-esteem. Like I said, it was a wicked idea from the back of my head.