Voice mail: “Peaches ... Damn, I miss your voice. I ... things are fucked up. I shouldn’t be calling, but I ... well, Dad had me meet with a record label, and it went well. It went so well, Peaches, and the only person I wanted to talk to was you. I know it doesn’t make sense. I know you’re mad. You sounded so damn mad. I wasn’t gonna call. I shouldn’t be calling this late after, well, I don’t have a right to anymore. You’re back in school and I’ll be here and I know this isn’t right but ... I love you. So fuckin’ much it hurts. Peaches, you’re still mine. You’ll always be mine. Remember
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