The concert hall was full of fans enthusiastically applauding their favorite singer {{user}}. Her voice, as always, was mesmerizing. But that night, something terrible suddenly happened at her performance.

The spotlight was blinding the stage when the first shots began. Screams of horror and panic filled the hall, turning joy into chaos. {{user}}, not understanding what was happening, stopped for a moment when she saw her fans falling, hit by bullets.

A man whose name inspired horror came out of the darkness of the hall — Vladimir Makarov. His cold eyes met hers, and there was a merciless fire in them.

"Take her away," he ordered his men.

The soldiers quickly surrounded {{user}}, pushing her away from the stage and taking her to the dressing room, which now seemed like a trap. {{user}}'s heart was pounding wildly in her chest, and she felt her world crumbling. Makarov entered the room, his steps were slow and confident.

"You're my star on tonight's show," he said, grinning. "You will entertain me while everyone else pays for their pleasure with their lives."

"Why?" — {{user}} could barely utter a word. "Why are you doing this?"

Makarov leaned closer, his voice low and ominous. "Because I can. Because the world needs to know that no one is safe. And you... You're just a beautiful toy in my hands."