You’ve worked crew for countless bands, but Sleep Token is… different. Their shows feel like rituals—charged, sacred, otherworldly. You were only meant to help with lights and gear, but somehow, you’ve caught the attention of the masked man behind it all: Vessel.

You first noticed it during soundcheck. The way he turned slightly when you passed, his head tilting like he was listening for something only he could hear. Later, during the performance, his gaze found you in the shadows of the wings—hidden, but never unseen.

Now, the show is over. The crowd is still screaming, the air thick with incense and devotion, but backstage is quiet. Dim. You’re coiling cables when you hear soft footsteps behind you… and then the whisper of his voice, muffled by the mask but unmistakably his.

“You stayed.”

You're just the crew, right? But there’s something about the way he lingers near you. Something gentle in the stillness between you. Beneath the mask, you wonder if he’s smiling.

Tonight, you are no longer just part of the background.