"Tell me baby, where did I go wrong?"

August 1990 2:30 in the morning.

It had been nearly three weeks since Tawny had walked out after an explosive argument that honestly David had really no recollection of what it had been about. Words had been said in anger, that he desperately wished he could take back, from both of them. He glanced to his left on the table of his hotel room that he’d been sitting at, at the smoldering cigarette that lay precariously on the ashtray but he didn’t pick it up, or even have any desire to finish smoking it.

He glanced at the pen and hotel stationary before him. He needed to vent and get these damned feelings out and in the open, before it began eating him from the inside out. Grabbing the pen, he began scribbling down lyrics.

“I used to be the man for you.
Did everything you wanted me to.
So tell me baby, where did I go wrong?”

He paused for a moment and glanced at the words he had written down and inhaled sharply. Already it was off to a damned good start, and there was no better option than to continue.

“I told you everything you wanted to know.
Precious secrets never spoken before.
All I’m askin’, where did I go wrong?”

It only took him at least fifteen minutes to pen the lyrics in their entirety. Folding it, he placed the paper in the inner pocket of his leather jacket so he could take it to the studio so he could work on the composition in the morning, as he was determined to get the blasted thing finished before the gig he had at the end of the week.

He’d hoped that Tawny would understand that this wasn’t a jab at her in the slightest. In fact it was actually quite the opposite, and sometimes there was also a hidden message in the songs as well, messages that a normal listener would not pick up on, but only the intended would be able to pick up on. Pushing back the chair, he stood and walked to the window and looked out onto Los Angeles, wondering just what Tawny was up to at this very moment. More than likely sleeping, or….no. He wouldn’t go there. He didn’t want to think of a worst case scenario. He just couldn’t understand where he had gone wrong, and why a passionate relationship had come to be in tatters.

He turned toward the door, grabbed a pack of cigarettes, stuffed it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and headed out of the hotel room allowing the door to click shut behind him. At least at three o'clock in the morning, he wouldn’t have to worry about fans clamoring around him for autographs. That wasn’t to say he didn’t love the attention. Hell, he adored it. He wouldn’t be in this business of making music otherwise. But then again, right now everything seemed extremely superficial. Tawny was his muse, the inspiration behind most, if not all of his music and honestly with this, he wasn’t sure how he was going to pull through.

Luckily, the beach was only a few hundred yards away and he made it there in only a few moments, extracted the pack of cigarettes, tapped it in his hand and extracted a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He then fished for his lighter and lit the cigarette. He removed it from his lips and exhaled the smoke slowly while staring out at the ocean.

“Jesus Christ, Tawn.” he said, and glanced at his left hand still bearing his wedding ring. He took another long drag from the cigarette, snuffed it out and tossed the butt into a nearby rubbish receptacle. Looking over his shoulder he noticed an all night diner. Perhaps just a cup of coffee and maybe a little something to eat, but first he was going to see if there was a payphone and try to call Tawny. This silence between them could not go on any longer.

He crossed the deserted street and walked inside, and greeted the hostess. “There a payphone here?”

The hostess nodded and pointed at the entrance. “You just passed it actually. It’s just inside the door.”

David turned and looked over his shoulder. “Ah, I must have missed it.”

“Wait…aren’t you David Coverdale of Whitesnake?” the woman inquired while closing the register.

David chuckled. “So I’ve been told. Let me call my wife really quickly, then I’ll order something and you can have an autograph." Before the woman could answer, David had crossed the room and approached the payphone, put a couple quarters in and dialed Tawny’s number and waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” Came the familiar voice on the other end. Her voice sounded ragged and tired, and it seriously concerned him. He took a seat on the small bench just behind him.

“Tawny, It’s David. Don’t hang up, baby, please.”

There was silence on the line for a while and he feared she had hung up, until. “I’m here, David. I’m just not doing good right now. I…I miss you.” he could tell she was on the verge of tears.

He glanced outside for a moment. “I know, baby. I miss you too. If I could I would come home tonight, but I’ve got a recording session tomorrow and then a show at the Black Cat. Why don’t you meet me at the show on Friday night and we can talk afterwards?”

“Okay. Baby, I’ll have to get something to wear in the meantime. I know what the dress code is at the Black Cat. But I’ll be there, I promise. What time does the show start?”

“Seven o’clock. And baby, I am sorry about the outburst. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I love you, Tawny.”
BR> Again there was silence on the other end of the line. “I love you too, baby.”

He sighed. “Baby, I’m going to get me something to eat. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“David?”

“Yes, love?”

Again there was silence on the phone.

“Tawny?” There was no response, so he figured she must have fallen asleep. He smiled softly, then gently placed the phone back in the cradle and walked back into the diner. . "We've got nothing in common."