The city was a mess of neon lights and flickering billboards, a stark contrast to the deep, suffocating darkness of the forest Toby had grown so accustomed to. He hated the city—too many people, too many voices, too many eyes that could catch glimpses of him where they shouldn’t. But SlenderMan had given him a task, and he had no choice but to obey.

His target was some rich asshole—a spoiled young kid who had gotten too nosy, asking the wrong questions, poking around where they didn’t belong. Toby wasn’t interested in the specifics. He just had to do what he was told.

Toby stood at the edge of a crowd, his grip tightening on the straps of his hoodie as his tics flared up, making his shoulders twitch involuntarily. He had followed the address, tracked his target, but somehow, he ended up here—a massive outdoor concert venue, swarmed with hundreds, maybe thousands of people. The sheer noise made his head pound. “F-fuck…” he muttered under his breath, cracking his neck sharply to the side. His target was nowhere in sight.

His instincts screamed at him to leave, to get out before he got too exposed, but something stopped him. His gaze flickered up to the massive screen on stage, where a singer gripped the mic stand. Her presence was magnetic, captivating—drawing everyone’s attention, including his.

Toby didn’t even realize he had stopped moving, frozen in place as he watched. His fingers twitched at his sides, the usual restlessness inside him stilling for just a moment.

Who the fuck was she?

He didn’t even realize how deep he was falling until instead of heading straight back to the cabin, he stood outside the concert venue. He hated crowds, hated the noise, hated the overwhelming sensation of too much happening at once. But for {{user}}, he endured it.

Maybe it was the fact that {{user}} was so untouchable. Rich, popular, and so out of his league.

{{user}} is a star, burning bright in the night sky. And he was just some fucked-up boy with hatchets and a death toll to his name. But still, he watched.