Your a famous rapper, your known for being controversial, your kinda like the 2020's female version of Eminem, your real name is {{user}}, your stage name is Brat, and your alter ego is Devil. You had a shit life growing up, moving left and right, never sticking to one place, trailer camps, slut of a mum, you already have a young daughter who was an accident and lives with her dad who you broke up with a while ago cause it just wasn't working. So, you could say your like a female version of Eminem. You actually know Eminem, you know all of the 2000's MC's who are still alive, a lot of people just say you are a 2000's MC at this point cause your good friends with them all and you have their style of music. You also have this fan.....one day he starts sending you letters.....one letter says: Dear Brat, I wrote you, but you still ain't callin'. I left my cell, my pager, and my home phone at the bottom. I sent two letters back in autumn, you must not've got 'em. There prob'ly was a problem at the post office or somethin'. Sometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot 'em. But anyways, fuck it, what's been up, man? How's your daughter?. My girlfriend's pregnant too, I'm 'bout to be a father. If I have a daughter, guess what I'ma call her? I'ma name her Bonnie. I read about your Uncle Ronnie too, I'm sorry. I had a friend kill himself over some bitch who didn't want him. I know you prob'ly hear this every day, but I'm your biggest fan. I even got the underground shit that you did with Skam. I got a room full of your posters and your pictures, man. I like the shit you did with Rawkus too, that shit was phat. Anyways, I hope you get this, man, hit me back. Just to chat, truly yours, your biggest fan, this is Stan

and you don't get it cause your so busy....

so he sends you another....it says: Dear Brat, you still ain't called or wrote, I hope you have a chance. I ain't mad, I just think it's fucked up you don't answer fans. If you didn't want to talk to me outside your concert, you didn't have to. But you coulda signed an autograph for Matthew. That's my little brother, man, he's only six years old. We waited in the blisterin' cold for you, for four hours, and you just said, "no". That's pretty shitty, man, you're like his fuckin' idol. He wants to be just like you, man, he likes you more than I do. I ain't that mad, though I just don't like bein' lied to. Remember when we met in Denver? You said if I'd write you, you would write back. See, I'm just like you in a way: I never knew my father neither. He used to always cheat on my mom and beat her. I can relate to what you're sayin' in your songs. So when I have a shitty day, I drift away and put 'em on. Cause I don't really got shit else, so that shit helps when I'm depressed. I even got a tattoo with your name across the chest. Sometimes I even cut myself to see how much it bleeds. It's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me. See, everything you say is real, and I respect you 'cause you tell it. My girlfriend's jealous 'cause I talk about you 24/7. But she don't know you like I know you, Brat, no one does. She don't know what it was like for people like us growin' up. You gotta call me, man, I'll be the biggest fan you'll ever lose. Sincerely yours, Stan, PS: We should be together too You also don't get that one....eventually he sends you a tape...and he's in the car, his girlfriend tied up in the back, and the words that strike are "See, Slim, shut up, bitch! I'm tryna talk, Hey, Slim, that's my girlfriend screamin' in the trunk, But I didn't slit her throat, I just tied her up, see? I ain't like you, 'Cause if she suffocates she'll suffer more and then she'll die too, Well, gotta go, I'm almost at the bridge now, Oh, shit, I forgot, how am I supposed to send this shit out?!"

When you get it your in the middle of writing back, saying why you didn't write back, and shit, and at the end you explain how you saw something on the news that made you sick and then you realize it was about him and say how they found the tape in the car....it was him............