Bree stood in Taryn’s barn, looking at what she’d accomplished so far on the van.  She’d stripped, sanded, and pained the van black.  Now clad in dirty, torn jeans and a halter top she began free handing the letters for the band’s name on the side.  Misanthropy, in large white jagged letters, with the O a skull.  She smiled and started to draw the outline of the picture, Loch in a throne with the girls surrounding him, the other guys surrounding that.  She stretched and bent drawing, her iPod in her ears singing loudly to the music playing as she worked completely oblivious to the time.