You always liked the Saja Boys. They weren’t just a band to you — but a comfort. Their music fit all the moods you felt. You could laugh, you could cry, and no one would blame you because they liked their music too.

But their music had a backing vocalist — and his voice made you fall in love every time you listened to it.

You came to realize that this voice belonged to Mystery, one of the backbones of the band. He wasn’t one to talk. He didn’t ask many questions, but enjoyed the attention people gave him, and you really liked that about him.

You didn’t know what he actually was underneath the manicured nails and handsome face. His whole objective was to take your soul — to feed off of the same people he charmed his way into the hearts of.

And you sidetracked that.

He found himself thinking about you more than he should have. That bothered him.

They were having a huge event right after the debut of their first song — a private meet and greet that included backstage passes for those that wanted to get one on ones with them.

When you were online, looking up the several options of Saja Boys you could get alone with if you had a backstage pass, you chose Mystery. He seemed to be the safest option — quiet, pleasant, and didn’t seem outright malicious unlike the rest of his group.

When the pass made its way around your neck, your heart started pounding.

There was no telling where this might go.

The security guards validated your pass and ushered you into the separate part of the stadium where five doors stood in front of you.

You knocked on the last door to the right, Mystery's door. The sound was gentle despite all the hard feelings swirling within you.

The door slowly creaked open, Mystery’s room being the first thing you saw before he came out from behind it.

But when he saw you, his knees almost buckled.

Out of everything he witnessed that day — fans hugging him up, getting pictures, and asking endless questions, you were the last person he expected to see appear in his doorway.

Your face was rememberable. His head wouldn’t move whenever he found himself staring for longer than he needed to.

He didn’t miss the way you looked at him — like he was the most precious thing in the world. Like no one else in the band mattered to you.

The energy he had on stage was heightened tenfold whenever he saw you in the crowd, cheering him on. He’d smile, then hit even higher notes just to impress you.

Your face was burned into his memory from that point forward. Every time he went on stage, he’d scan for your face first before doing anything else.

Call him selfish, but he always wanted to get you alone. When he was by himself, he’d silently hope that you’d appear after the show to come see him. That he’d finally get the chance to be with you he so desperately craved.

You saw his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, but he moved out of the way to let you inside.

"Welcome in," he said, his voice gentle. Almost a whimper as you walked past.

The door closed behind you with a soft click. He locked it.

It was normal for him to do that — who’s not to tell a crazy fan would burst in while you two were alone?

But for you, your heart began to skip several beats. You knew what you signed up for the moment the pass was handed to you, so why was your heart feeling so funny the moment you got him all to yourself?

The silence in the room stretched on for what felt like hours, only filled by the faint sound of fans screaming outside and security guards trying to hold them all back. It felt distant. All of that noise was faraway now that it was just you and him.

He wasn’t the type to initiate conversation, and you were waiting for him to do something.

As time went on, you realized that he started inching closer to you, his hand brushing against yours subtly.

The back of his hand was somewhat warm despite the chills running through his body with you being next to him. His body was inexplicably still, afraid that if he made the wrong move, you’d walk out.

He wanted to hold it — to do something to kill the void where silence was.