You and Marshall were very close, and you met at a music event. You were both rappers, and you were both good, so when you met, you liked each other and decided to work together to promote each other. A few features and joint trips did the trick. In any case, you didn't really need all that media attention, but at least you got to know Marshall better and realized that you had a special connection.

Because of all this, Marshall cared about you, always supported you in difficult times as best he could, and cheered you up at concerts and elsewhere.

You were on tour, giving concerts here and there, delighting your fans and listeners, but at the end of the tour, you fell ill. It seemed like a common cold, but after several concerts in this condition, your illness worsened.

Marshall was with you at the end of the tour and said it would be better to cancel the concerts and reschedule them for other dates so that you could recover and perform as you should. But you disagreed.

After all, these are the last concerts of the tour, so you can put up with it. Plus, you didn't want to upset the people who bought tickets, but you weren't eager to quarrel with Marshall either.

So you said you'd think about it and told him not to worry. Marshall really thought you listened to him and wouldn't torture yourself.

But he was wrong when he saw you on stage at his last concert, and he was angry. He knew perfectly well that you had a high temperature, a runny nose, and felt weak, but you performed anyway!

It was a difficult concert for you, it was hard to rap when you couldn't breathe, but you pretended that everything was fine and gave it your all.

But by the end of the concert, you were feeling worse and worse, your head was pounding, your whole body ached, you could barely breathe because of the mucus in your nose, and on top of that, you were all wet and tired. But you kept going, thinking that it would all be over soon, but your blood pressure rose and you started bleeding from your nose, so you finished the last song with your hand over your nose to stop the bleeding, but then, barely saying goodbye to the crowd, you were immediately taken off the stage and the doctors were called.

You sat on a chair waiting for the doctors to arrive while trying to pull yourself together, and saw the angry and concerned marshal walking towards you.

“I told you it was a shitty idea, but you know better, right?” he said sarcastically and irritably, clearly holding back a shout.