“
She…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “She doesn’t like Nickelback. And I…” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I love them. There—I said it. Nickelback is my absolute favorite band of all time, and my own wife can’t stand them.” “Brant…” “You have no idea what it’s been like.” He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “We’ll be in the minivan together, and ‘How You Remind Me’ will come on the radio, and she’ll say to me, ‘Shut that awful music off.’ She says they… they’re super fake, and their songs are made for… entirely commercial reasons.” His voice trembles dangerously, threatening to break. “She says that… they’re not even a real band. She says nobody really likes them, and there must be something wrong with me.” He lets out a strangled cry. “And now you probably think there’s something wrong with me too.
”
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