"What do you mean they’ve stopped making it??" Stefan yelled into the phone at his brother, his free hand fisting up and covering his mouth. Hot tears brimmed at his eyes, ready to fall, only waiting until Damon spoke those last few words that would break him. They’ve stopped making your hairgel. There are other hair gels in the markets. This isn’t the end of the world, brother. "No!" He exclaimed, the first tear falling from his cheek. "I don’t want other hair gels! What don’t you understand? I want that one! It’s the only one that doesn’t make my hair crunchy or greasy! That was my last jar, Damon! Last jar!" He hung up the phone and tossed it aside, fingers combing through his luscious locks moisturized by the hair product. It was a feeling he was going to miss, not knowing what he would do now. He didn’t have any jars in reserve and his last jar only had maybe one, two uses at the most left. He sat down on the couch, head in his hands. "Why does this have to happen to me?"