Softly he said...

Well, this is unexpected. 

[...]

Fine, for someone trapped in a cursed city.  [...]  Just the usual.   I'm getting a band together and I wanna put an album out if I stick around long enough.  Look, I'd love to stick around and chat, but I've got to go to work.  [...]  Yeah, I've got a fucking job, that's what people do.  [...]  I've been working since I was sixteen, don't act like you think I can't hold down a fucking job.  And no, I will not watch my fucking language.

[...]

What do you care?  [...]  Yeah, whatever.  [...] No.  [...]  But--[...]  Look, I'm clean, all right?  Tell Mom I'm fine, if you can, if you're even here, which I doubt.

[...]

No, you look.  You listen for a while.  I'm twenty-seven and I haven't needed you for a long time.  And I bet you didn't think I'd make it past twenty, but--surprise--it looks like I'm going to go on living my life, living it however I damn well please, for a long time, so please just go back to acting like you don't know anything about my life and I'll be more than happy to let you live in ignorance.  [...]  No you don't.  [...] My life's not something you can fix, so do us both a favor and stop trying.  And stop acting like it was my fault things got messed up in the first place.

[...]

No, I--no, you know what, I do blame you.  Don't act like you deserve an award because you didn't respond in the worst possible way you could have.  I don't care if you did what you thought was best--obviously, it didn't work and I'll just go on fucking whoever I want and I don't care what you think of me--[...]  You bastard, I can't believe you actually--

[a thumping noise followed by the sound of some things breaking and a nearly indecipherable string of profanity, followed by an especially long pause, after which Curt seems to have calmed down.]

You're really not going away, are you?

[...]