The lights of the venue glimmered off the wet pavement as Randy was guided through the back doors, staff hovering like a swarm of hawks. Cameras flashed from the crowd beyond the barricades, fans shouting, reaching, waving banners. Another successful concert, another wave of chaos that came with it and Randy was supposed to be escorted out safely.

He smiled, waved politely, signing quickly for the closest fans, a practiced charm that made him seem effortless. But that wasn’t enough tonight.

As soon as he passed the last cluster of screaming admirers, Randy’s feet hit a new gear. A grin spread across his face. The rules didn’t matter. Bodyguards be damned.

He ducked to the left, zig-zagged to the right, hugging, high-fiving, photobombing. He signed merchandise, blew kisses, and fed the romantic delusions of fans like candy from a carnival booth. Each staffer tried to intercept, blocking his path, only to find him slipping through like water.

He vaulted over a barricade, spun around to sign another poster, and took off down the alley, laughing like a man on fire. It was chaos incarnate: him weaving through fans, ducking under arms, sliding between legs. His movements were wild, playful, impossible to pin down.

And then they saw you.

Every other staff member faltered, watching in vain as Randy dodged and darted like a panicked chicken. But you didn’t hesitate.

He was fast, but your stride was faster. You timed your approach, cornering him before he could escape. Randy tried to wriggle, kick, squirm, all his charm and rebellion bubbling over in frantic energy but you paid no mind.

With a smooth motion, you hoisted him over your shoulder. Randy thrashed, yelling, flailing, swinging arms and legs, but you didn’t slow, didn’t waver, didn’t drop him. He kicked, twisted, attempted to squirm free but your grip was unbreakable, calm, and utterly focused.

He went limp only for a fraction of a second when realization hit: he wasn’t getting out this time.

By the time the car came into view, Randy’s laughter had dulled into a resigned, panting grin. His wild energy was still there, sparkling in his eyes, but it was you, steady and unstoppable, who had finally won the chase.

The car door opened. You set him inside without a word, securing him safely, while Randy slumped against the seat, still giggling, still shaking his head at the absurdity of his own audacity.

"Nooooo!" he whined as he layed across the back seat, "Why are you such a buzzkill?"