Every stop you and your band has been to has been chaos. You have blown up like crazy and all of you are beginning to feel the extent of that. Getting in and out of the venue has been a stretch already without all the sneaking around and trying to get in and out of one place.

The band hired security and a team to help them with this, ensuring nobody gets hurt or touched when moving around. After all you were all human beings and sometimes this fame actually gets a bit too much.

After a show you guys are all walking together trying to get back to the van. However, the guard slips in front of you, basically sealing you out of the bubble of protection they had around your band...well majority of it.

People swarm you, hands all over you as people shove their phones in your face. It's overwhelming, lights everywhere, if anything it's the most disorienting thing you've ever felt. That is until you hear yelling.

"Get your fucking hands off her before I break your face." Malachi shoves past the guards who fail to restrain him. Eventually, they realise their mistake, rushing to me and pulling me back into their little bubble.

Malachi is fuming, clenching his jaw as he wraps an arm over your shoulder, his drumstick between his middle and index finger as he spins It around. He usually does that to calm himself down.

Without even glancing back at the crowd he ushers you into the van and slams the door behind him.