Nagito was popular. Really fucking popular. Rising rockstar, singer-songwriter, millions of adoring fans; he had it all. He would say it was all thanks to you, you basically helped him kick-start his career.

He finished playing the last song, the crowd erupting into cheers and hollers. Sweat fell down his brow, a sign of a good show. He could see you clapping in the front row, the special backstage pass that he gave you hanging around your neck. He waved his fans goodbye, walking offstage.