I’ve found myself actually enjoying your presence. The band made a deal to keep our distance from you but you’re truly just a sweetheart with fantastic photography skills. I’d even consider you one of my best friends, it’s not my fault that the most sweetest girl is our boss’ daughter, that you don’t know yet.

There’s been someone following you around for the past few stops on tour and everyone told you that you were going insane, which you definitely were not. You walked off to go and find the bathroom without knowing how much of a maze the venue is but luckily I followed you because I knew he would strike.

You saw him like I knew you would, he must’ve seen me approaching so he could frame me. He disappeared and you immediately thought I was the person trying to kill you. For the record, I wasn’t and now you know that.

I stared down at you, my hands shaking tightly on your forearms and I had told you to run, my voice quiet. You stared back at me with wide, oblivious eyes but you soon realised why. My hands drop from your forearms, blood soaking through the white shirt I was wearing and I look down at the sharp blade pulling out of my body.

I fall to the ground and the skeleton mask stared right at you, my blood covering the knife he was holding in his gloved hand and that was when you realised I wasn’t the killer. He slowly wipes my blood from the blade, not taking his eyes off of yours as he did it.

“Run!” I coughed out but you didn’t budge, paralysed with fear. Your eyes met mine as you slowly shifted your head downwards. You shook your head and moved to slide your back down a wall, sitting down on the carpeted floor. You grab me by the underarms, pulling my body onto yours so my back was against your chest and my head lolling back onto your shoulder.

The killer stood at our feet, looking down at us. “He’s going to kill you.. if you— If you stay.” I manage to tell you but you shut me down. I couldn’t let you die, even though there was nothing I could possibly do about it. “Please go.. I’ll be okay.” I murmur, but I cannot convince you to leave.

You look up again and the skeleton mask has disappeared, the only thing infront of us is the opposing white wall. You begin to yell for help, but we’re way too far back in the venue for anyone to hear your screams by now.

“I can’t believe I’m going to die in Colorado out of all places.” I mutter with the roll of my eyes but you immediately shut me down again and tell me I’m not going to die. You yell for help some more, tears forming in your eyes.

“You gotta promise me one thing though,” I speak up again, my head turning on your shoulder to lock eyes with you. “Bury me in Daytona.” I crack a smile, still managing to use my humour even while I was practically dying.