Desafinado: Slightly Out Of Tune - Prologue. PROLOGUE:

AND SO IT BEGINS...

I've yelled "fuck you" so many damn times, hoping for someone to yell it back and chuck the same rock I've thrown into the ocean countless times.

The silence can be deafening and even drive you crazy.

But there I was, sitting on the beach, half-drunk and a little tipsy, dangling my San Mig Light on the side where nobody wandered.

I asked the water if it could grant me a wish.

A prayer to bring me someone or something I could hold onto and never let go.

I chuckled at the thought of some creature randomly popping out of this body of water; I'd probably bolt outta here like a bat outta hell.

I may be tough as nails, but ghosts and people sneaking up on me freak me the fuck out.

Surprises?

No thanks.

Then my phone beeped.

Amidst the crashing waves lulling me to sleep, I managed to gather some semblance of consciousness to do an online transaction and pay for tomorrow's shipment of fish and meat.

UBS Investment Swiss Bank, Ellison. Account Info.

I stared at the screen.

I have a whopping $4,705,350,221 sitting in my personal bank account.

I've never touched that money.

I never laid a finger on it, and I have no plans to either.

It's tied to my grandpa's trust fund, and if I touch that cash, it means I gotta accept his terms and conditions.

No fuckin' way.

But with my debts looming, that money's starting to look mighty tempting.

Half the time, I have no clue what having all that money even means.

Most of the time, I think about giving it away to the poor, maybe funding a revolution somewhere, and taking out a dictator to save the world.

Or maybe I'll just buy a private island and live there butt-naked for shits and giggles.

And when I'm drowning my sorrows in booze, wondering where the hell everything leads, and if there's some grand purpose to it all, you can bet your ass I'll be drunkenly crying my eyes out.

I chucked another rock into the ocean, wiped my eyes, and asked, "Is there something more to all this shit?"