Ego Page #2

Hello?

Hello?

Can someone help me?

Hello!? Can someone help me?!

Hello!? Hello!?

Can you see the light?

No.

- Now?

- No.

- Now?

- No.

- And now?

- No.

- Does your head hurt?

- Yes, back here.

- The back of your head?

- Yeah... or sort of everywhere.

Let me take a look at the other eye.

Do you see the light now?

No! I don't see any f***ing light!

What the hell is wrong?!

Stop crying, Mom! What's wrong?!

Don't touch me!

Your son had an aneurysm.

The fall caused it to burst, and the

bleeding damaged the visual cortex.

It was a time bomb,

just waiting to go off.

But he will be able

to see again, right?

- He will get his sight back?

- I'm sorry.

It's highly unlikely

that it will return naturally.

The good news is that

Sebastian is being treated,

so he's in no danger.

- So what do we do now?

- We wait.

- Wait? For what?

- To see if his condition changes.

And seek new treatments. There's

progress all the time in this field.

We'll keep searching.

We can't just do nothing.

I refuse to accept this!

You heard the doctor,

his condition may change.

It's pretty cozy in here.

For a while.

- Have you heard from Hammarsten?

- No, that's over.

What? Why?

I don't know. I got a letter

"on behalf of Jens Hammarsten. "

- He didn't even call me himself.

- What a f***ing fake.

But you're a singer.

You don't need to see to be a star.

Look at Ray Charles,

or Stevie Wonder, or...

- Youssou N'dour.

- What do you mean, Youssou N'dour?

The guy who sings

"Seven Seconds Away. "

- He's not blind.

- He's not?

We're going out tonight.

Want to come?

Oh come on!

You going to drag me around

like a seeing-eye dog?

I'm stuck here!

My parents got me an assistant

to help me with my "daily life. "

- What daily life? I have no life.

- Of course you do!

Come on, Sebbe! Come out with us

tonight. I'll look after you.

- Cheers!

- Cheers!

Cheers!

The best way to get over a girl

is to "get over" another girl.

- Did you get that Sebbe?

- Why don't you sing something?

- What?

- Cheers!

Erik!

Erik! Erik!

Sorry.

Sorry, sorry!

Erik! Erik!

Erik! Erik!

- F***ing drunk. Get out of here!

- You OK?

- He's not drunk, he's blind!

- Sure he is...

What are you laughing at?

You think this is funny?

Get me a cab. Get me a cab!

- At Gmail?

... dot com, yes.

- What's your password?

- donkeyballs84.

No, there's nothing interesting here.

- Invitations to night clubs...

- Delete.

And you've got mail from Oskar

af Strm-de Luca and Pelle Borg.

- They wonder why you never call.

- Delete those too.

Straight ahead, straight...

You know the way.

You're a meter from the couch.

Watch out for the rug.

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