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  Frost sobbed, his forehead against Satyr's chest. He felt miserable, like if there was a void on his heart, getting bigger and bigger and dragging the rest of his body to the vacuum. There was a storm of feelings too; love, misery, hate, fear, anger, devotion, shame, loneliness, love, pain and love.  He could feel the singer cherishing his long black hair, and he felt warm while embraced on his arms. Then he heard the singer calling him, in a very soft voice:  -Kjetil?  -I'm sorry. - the drummer sobbed, and the singer pulled him closer:  -It's okay. - Satyr said, truely - It was my fault, I should have noticed there was something wr