Time: Present Day
Location: Vatican City

Peter's angry anguish reddened his face. He pulled tissues from the box and cleaned himself up. The music video had changed. It was that Australian guy that had taken the world by storm, rocketing up the charts to number 1 even in the U.S.

The words had captured and summed up how he had felt for the past twenty five odd years. Betrayed, forgotten, less than nothing. Only a few short weeks back then he had gone from ecstasy to desolation and all points in between. He no longer trusted anyone. He wanted people to hurt like he did. To feel like he did. But they didn't understand. No one could. There had been others. Call girls mostly, some prettier than she had been. But they weren't her. They weren't Amelia. Even her twin sister Amanda wouldn't have done. He had to have her or no one. It had been that way since that fateful weekend. So many years without a word from any of them and yet he still regularly put himself through all this again and again. He felt disgusted with himself. Ashamed he was unable to move on. Christ . . . he couldn't even do himself in. She had caused all this heartache. She was dead because of it. She was totally responsible for her own demise. He had arranged for her to be done in instead . . .