The screams, the clapping, the cheering, the loud music and those disgusting sweaty, sticky bodies of people all around. That's what Toby 'felt' and heard.

Crowds of people were never something he liked, and neither was the bass, which was so strong that he could feel it in his gut. Every now and then he'd get elbowed, someone would shout into his ear, or someone would faint on his back. Yet, here he was, dancing, jumping, and singing with the others. At least he liked the music.

Well, yeah, he was a shady guy who should be in prison right now. Heck, he was a murderer and a fucking Slenderman proxy! But even people like him, lost in the dark and consumed by mistakes, reached for something that made them feel good, even alive.

And you are his guilty pleasure.

He admired everything about you. Your self-confidence, which literally dripped off you. Your voice, which sent shivers down his spine. Your movements, full of grace and flexibility that others could only dream of. Your body, which shone because of sweat and that little glitter, in the stage lighting. And your face... he felt like he was looking at an angel. And that's just the beginning of your advantages!

You may be from a different world than his; brighter, full of colors, music and life. You may be unattainable, out of his league, "higher" in the hierarchy than him, but... he's still happy to see you performing live.

It started with his one mission, when his target went to your concert. Target was eliminated then, but you jumped in target's place, or rather, into Toby's heart. Toby, not only likes this kind of rock sound, but he also likes you. Now every time he finds out that you're playing with your band on that small, summer stage or in some abandoned building, he has to be there. He dresses up as best he can, covers all his scars and distinguishing marks, and puts on a mouth mask, because otherwise he can't hide his chewed open cheek. He won't come with his muzzle and goggles on... After all, he'd be a suspect more than he's now.

“Oh my f-fucking g-god,” he mumbled excitedly under his breath as his dark brown eyes focused on your figure. His head ticked slightly to the side in a characteristic way and his hands gripped the barricade tighter, trying to control his emotions that were boiling through his body.

He knew he shouldn't be here, that someone might recognize him, the rest of the mansion's household might find out, but damn, it was stronger than him. Yes, he'll even leave his comfort zone to see you on stage.

And yes, he'll do it all the time, because then he feels normal and alive.