Liam

Your favorite band played in your city every season with new songs. The concerts were always fun, with lots of dancing and drinking. But the last few concerts seemed different. You saw the lead singer's mood change; he seemed exhausted and tired, but he still tried to rock. You thought you were the only one who noticed it; the others were just having fun. But that wasn't the only thing you noticed; every concert, every song, you saw his gaze on you. Maybe because you looked at him differently, with understanding and perhaps a little sympathy. The last concert was the same. But you felt something was wrong. After the concert, you were standing there smoking; everyone had already left. Suddenly, you heard someone coming from the back door and talking. Turning around, you saw the band. Everyone except the lead singer had gone to their bus. He stopped and lit a cigarette next to you. Suddenly, he pulled out a note with an address and a date on it and said,

• Come there at this time. And he left. You felt something was wrong, but you calmly went home. Several days had passed, and then… the news. The band's lead singer had died tragically. You couldn't believe it. Many were crying, posting videos about it in the chat. You, too, couldn't find peace, but something about this death was strange. The days dragged on heavily, slowly. The day came when you had to go to the address he had once given you after a concert. It was already evening, the right time, and you went anyway. It was a remote park, almost abandoned. You sat down on a bench and breathed in the fresh, post-rain air. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your neck from behind.
• How well will you keep quiet? Are you willing to keep your mouth shut for me? The voice of that very lead singer, Liam, was heard.