Your father was the priest of the church in Linköping, in the 90s, it was understood—you were to follow God, to live upright and faithful, as everyone expected the priest’s child to do.

Then there was Tobias Forge. He was everything you weren’t supposed to be—a boy who dropped out of school, played death metal in smoky pubs, and dressed in black like he belonged to another world. People called him “Satanic,” whispered about him in pews and behind closed doors. He was rebellion made flesh, a walking contradiction to everything you'd been taught.

And still… you were drawn to him. You found yourself sneaking away, with Tobias, the world felt different—dangerous, but thrilling. He showed you everything your sheltered life never dared: how to curse, how to light a cigarette, how to drink until the streetlights blurred. And even feeling guilt, knowing how angry your father would be, you couldn’t stay away. Because besides everything, Tobias was kind. He made you feel seen. Even when he tested your patience.