Feeling Eve's hand on his arm made him jump a little. Something about her voice made him calm. He was still unsure about this whole thing. As he stared into the fog trying to figure it out he felt her hand roll down his arm. Her mentioning of a room brought some ease to his mind. Surely some sleep would help out if not wake him up from this. He stood at the window for a few more minutes after Eve walked away. He then walked into the back to where his room was. The sight of it was unbelievable. The bed was a bit nice for his taste but there's nothing wrong with sleeping good every once in a while. While the decor of the room was amazing what really caught his attention was the view out the window. He walked over to his and placed his hand on the window and stared into the Coney Island neighborhood. "Home. I must be dreaming now. I'm sure that after I sleep I'll wake up somewhere with this view." he told himself.<br/><br/>He had to pull himself away from the window as the view was starting to make him a little homesick. He went to the bathroom and set his eyes on the jacuzzi. Deciding that he needed to relax he walked over to it and turned on the jets. He slowly removed his clothes then climbed into the jacuzzi and relaxed. As he sat there feeling the water coat his body more memories began to rush forward again. He remembered how in school he was a prodigy. He excelled in music his reading and writing classes. He remembered that he wanted to be an author or musician when he grew up but his parents wanted him to be a businessman or a lawyer. That just didn't sit right with him and him and his parents would argue about it all the time. So much anger built up then he discovered punk. With its music he was able to express himself and enjoy music.<br/><br/>The next thing that rushed to mind was the last time he saw his parents. They were having yet again another argument except this one led to him leaving. "You're going to go to college and get a successful job. I don't care what you say that's final!" yelled his father. "No I'm not. Its my life, not yours. I make my own decisions. I don't care what you want me to do. Get over it!" Tyler yelled back. "Well if that's the way its gonna be then you can just leave. I mean look at you, ripped jeans and shirts, that mohawk, you're a mess.!" yelled his father. "Fine I will. You angry old pathetic waste of space!" yelled Tyler as he slammed the door to his house shut. He expected them to call the cops but they never did. He never went back to school and lived on the street until he made a few friends in the punk scene and got his life back together. He never saw his parents again.