The crowd was clapping and cheering and hollering for an encore. Crow stood on the edge of the stage, waving out to the thousands that showed up to hear him. It was insane. Security was pissed and had a hard time controlling things, but thankfully everything had gone off without a hitch. The show had been one of the biggest so far. He had been worried because Asbury Park had been on of the bigger venues he was performing in, and the tickets had taken a while to sell out. Angela had been right about the east coast being procrastinators thing. But New Jersey ended up showing in force, filling up the outdoor venue and giving Crow one of the best nights of his life. At one point, he had even brought Ethan up on stage, something he had never done before. It was during his song, ‘Angel Scars’, and he had become so wrapped up in emotion that he just needed to have Ethan with him. He looked backstage, where Ethan usually stood, and ran over as the drummer tapped out a slow beat to the beginning of the song. Crow grabbed Ethan’s hand and pulled him out to the stage, the crowd breaking out into a roaring cheer. They may have thought Ethan was a special celebrity guest, so Crow clarified things further.

“Everyone,” he had said into the microphone before the song started, “meet my boyfriend, Ethan.”

Crow thought the crowd couldn’t have sounded louder. He was wrong. They all roared as Crow pulled Ethan in for a quick kiss, one that was displayed on the two massive screens that bordered both sides of the stage. Their love was being magnified and played out so that even the people at the very farthest corner of the venue could see them. And more than that, Crow knew this moment would be filmed and uploaded to the internet in seconds flat. He wanted that. He wanted his kiss to go viral, so that struggling kids out there could see that open love and pride is possible, all while thousands of people cheer you on. Crow wished he had someone show him that when he was growing up, so now he was going to be the one carrying the message. Him and Ethan. They would bring that message together. Role models for children who otherwise thought the entire world was against them. Crow remembered that feeling. When you don’t see anyone like you anywhere else, you start thinking maybe you are the problem. Maybe the mean kids with their meaner words are right.

But, no, fuck that. A small-minded asshole does not represent the entire world. Bullies and thugs don’t represent what’s good about life. The world is much bigger, and much brighter. Sometimes that light can fade, but it never goes out.

“Thank you, guys!” Crow said into the mic as he took another bow, feeling a swell of gratitude rush over him. How did he get so lucky?

* * *

The meet and greets after his shows were one of Crow’s favorite parts of touring. He loved every opportunity he got to reach out and connect with his fans. He absorbed all their stories and tried to send them home with a memorable experience. He had heard horror stories of celebrities standing feet away from their fans for the photo and then having them rushed away. No way was that going to be Crow. Security had everyone standing in a separate room, coming in one by one. Crow stood by the white paper backdrop the photographer had set up against the far wall. The first meet-and-greeter walked in with a wide smile and eyes that resembled that of a baby fawn imprinting on her mother. She was shell-shocked at being able to meet Crow.

“Hi,” Crow said, excitedly. It broke the spell. She jumped up and started saying hi repeatedly as she walked over, her hand outstretched. Crow rejected the hand and pulled her in for a hug instead. She was freaking out by the time they had to take the photo.

“Oh man, everyone’s going to be so jell,” she said as they turned toward the camera. “My entire calculus class like worships you.”

“Calculus, huh?” They smiled for the photo, the flash going off like a white bomb. “I hated math. It was my worst subject.”

“Ugh, me too!” Her smile grew wider, if that were even possible. Crow loved it, that moment he made a genuine connection with a fan. He could see how blown away she was by simply finding out she had something in common with Crow.

It was that girl he had seen on the street. The same one who had been at the tour bus.

“I’m sorry,” she started, waving off the camera, “I just have to ask, please tell your manager to never contact my family again.”

“Huh?” Crow, along with the rest of the room, were thoroughly confused.

“Yeah, I don’t know, she somehow figured out who I was and told me to stop coming to the shows. Must have been through ticket sales, I guess. She found my home address and sent a letter to my mom, saying I needed to be better. I was going to bring it up the other day when I bumped into you, but freaked out.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Crow was genuinely confused and also felt bad for what this girl must have gone through. Why was Angela harassing a fan? Crow understood that the stakes were raised with the letters, but that didn’t mean she could bully people away from seeing his shows. It wasn’t unheard of for fans to road trip it cross the country with their favorite band.

“It’s ok. I was bummed for a little, but it’s fine. I think my mom understood that I was telling the truth when I said I wasn’t stalking you. The cops even questioned me, dude. It sucked.”

“I’m really sorry,” Crow reached out and pulled her in for a side hug. Frankie stood in the corner, watching the time and signaling when he was beginning to cut into another fan’s time. The finger swirl went up in the air, warning Crow that he needed to somehow wrap things up.

“Here, let’s grab a photo and then I’ll get you a VIP pass to a future show, your choice.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?!”

“Hell yeah, just leave your info with Frankie over there and we’ll be in touch.”

“Ugh, this is why I love you.”

They posed for a photo and Crow said another apology before the next fan was brought into the room. There wasn’t much time between smiling faces and hyperly enthusiastic conversations to think about what Angela had done. Another hour of meeting fans passed when things quickly soured. He was in the middle of taking a photo when the devil herself stormed in through the door, followed closely by a worried looking Troy.

“We need to go,” Angela said, her voice pointed, her eyes ignoring the young fan at Crow’s side.

“What’s going on?” It was Frankie. He was asking from across the room, setting down his beer bottle and walking over toward the group. Crow eyed his friends, sensing fear in the way they stood, in how quickly Angela spoke and how shaken Troy seemed to be.

This felt wrong. He had to go. Crow said a heartfelt sorry to the fan for having his time cut short and then left the room. He promised to reach out to everyone still waiting in line with a personalized message and free tickets.

“Where’s Jordan?” Angela asked. “I want to leave tonight.”

Crow shrugged, having seen Jordan for a second back stage before he went out to the bar for drinks. “I’m not sure, he was out dancing I think.” They continued on through the back hallway, the thumping of the music in the club getting farther and farther. It never disappeared though. In fact, it almost got louder the second they opened the door and exited out into a parking lot.

As they walked toward the parked bus, Crow could see the damage that was done. One of the side windows was shattered, heavy chunks of glass strewn about the dark gravel of the parking lot. Whoever had done it must have climbed onto some kind of step stool and smashed the window with a rock, because there was no way a regular punch would have broken through. Crow reflexively looked around the private lot, seeing the security tower in the distance.

“And no one saw this happening?” Crow asked in disbelief.

“The security guard says he stepped out for three minutes to the bathroom, came back and it happened,” Angela said, a hand to her mouth. “Everyone else was inside the venue. This must have happened while we were all inside.” Jordan came out through the back door then, followed by a sweaty Caeri who had joined them for the east coast leg of the tour. She looked pale, her dark blue hair making her elven features pop in contrast, her big green eyes wide in fear.

“Jesus…” Caeri said, her voice trailing off.

This was an escalation. This was someone who was desperate to send a message.

“Did they take anything?” Crow asked. He could hear police sirens in the distance. Familiar sounds now.

“No,” Angela said. “But they did leave something on your bed.”

“My bed?” Crow felt bile climb up his chest. “They were in my room?”

Crow had to see for himself. He needed to go inside. He walked toward the bus, the door already open. He climbed the steps, Ethan and Angela close behind him. The security guards nodded when he asked if they had cleared the bus.

“Maybe we should wait until the police get here,” Ethan said, but Crow was determined. This message was for him, so he was going to see what it was. He took a deep breath as he pushed open the bedroom door. His room was exactly as he had left it, the bed made, clothes thrown on the back of a chair, underwear piled in a corner by the hamper, some of them inside the hamper.

One thing was different. An addition. A doll sitting on the center of the bed, propped up with the pillows.

“Fuck,” Crow said, feeling himself break into a cold sweat. How could he be so hot and cold at the same time? He could feel Ethan wrap an arm around his lower back, like a hook pulling him onto shore, an anchor to keep him grounded. Crow felt sick. The doll was one of the small porcelain dolls that had been on display at the Toy Museum they had visited. It meant that whoever it was had been watching them even when Crow thought he was safe. They had gone to some random museum without anyone spotting him or tweeting out his location, he thought he had nothing to worry about.

Ethan had been there. He was sure he had nothing to worry about.

He took a breath, trying to regain the blood flow to his extremities.

There was something else about the doll that felt off. It was cracked, all over. The porcelain skin was held together with sloppy pieces of tape, making the smiling baby with the bald head seem even more demented.

But why was it broken?

Crow walked toward the doll. Every step felt like his shoes were filling with cement. He could hear Ethan advising him to stop, to leave it for the police, but Crow needed to see this for himself. He could see a corner of a piece of paper sticking out from one of the cracks. Before anyone could tell him others, he grabbed the corner and pulled. The doll came undone, porcelain chunks falling onto the bed, still taped together in parts.

Crow stepped back from the bed, a folding up piece of paper in his hand. He looked to Ethan, whose expression was unwavering. He really did do well in high pressure situations.

Crow, on the other hand, was shaking slightly as he unfolded the note and started to read it out loud.

“I feel broken. Just like little Amy here, the doll you have in your hands. Amy. I like that name. It could be the name of our daughter one day. Wouldn’t that be nice? Little Amy. Hell, we could even name our little teacup piggy that. I know you want one of those. Just like you’re going to want me. You want that, I know you do. So STOP breaking my heart. I see you with that man, and I can’t have it anymore. Break things off or Little Amy won’t be the only thing being held together with tape.”

Crow felt his blood pressure plummet. He was close to passing out. This was no longer some dumb online troll who didn’t mean any real harm. This was someone who was clearly unhinged and also close to Crow in one way or another. This person knew that Ethan had taken him to the toy museum.

“And teacup pigs,” Crow repeated. “That’s not something everyone knows. I think I said it in one random interview like a year ago. And that was to some unknown blog which probably doesn’t even exist anymore. What the fuck...”

Ethan must have felt the fear sticking to Crow like a film of cold sweat. He felt Ethan’s hand rub his back, the spot between his shoulders, exactly where Crow loved being rubbed. It helped calm him down, and the fact that it was Ethan who was doing it increased the calming effect.

Until his mind snapped back to the note.

Break things off or else…

Crow shook Ethan’s hand off his back. It was making him sick. This entire thing had him physically ill. He stumbled to the bathroom, the world funneling in like a fucked-up haunted house attraction, where the walls are programmed to collapse. He made it to the bathroom in time, emptying his stomach into the toilet. Ethan came in with a glass of water and knelt down, his hand returning to that one spot. Crow looked up from the toilet, silent tears running down his cheeks.

“Everything is so good. Why? Who would do this?”

Ethan put on a strong face. Those baby blues were as soothing as looking out onto a calm ocean, the water serene, gentle waves breaking through on occasion. Except now, Crow had to look away. He felt like he was seconds from drowning. Another wave of nausea hit.

“You’re ok. Everything’s ok. Listen to me, Crow, nothing is going to happen to either of us.”

“They were in our room. They knew where we were. They broke in and I’m sure didn’t leave behind a trace of anyway to find them. That’s what the cops are going to say. That’s what they’ve said each and every other fucking time. ‘Nothing we can do now, except keep an eye open.’ Well fuck, my eyes are wide open, Ethan, and I really don’t like what I’m seeing.”

“Neither am I, Crow, but we aren’t going to let this fuck things up. I’ve had my life get completely thrown off the rails by circumstances I couldn’t control. This, though? We can control this. Together.”

Crow grabbed the cold glass of water. He sat up and away from the toilet, drinking the water, feeling comfort in sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor with Ethan across him.

“But being together is the problem. Ethan, if anything ever happens to you, I —“

“You don’t need to think about that,” Ethan said, cutting him off. “I had to work real hard getting rid of that thought pattern, so don’t even start going down that path. We can’t live life like that, and we definitely aren’t going to live life in fear of being together.”

“I’m scared,” Crow said, feeling a moment of vulnerability rush over him. He felt like a jellyfish without the stingers and washed up on shore; limp and useless.

Ethan put a hand on Crow’s face, his thumb gently rubbing the ridge of his cheekbone. Crow found the courage to look into Ethan’s eyes, and those sapphire eyes staring back somehow managed to lend him even more strength. “We’re going to be ok,” Ethan said, wearing a smile that seemed indestructible. “You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because our love is too strong for any other outcome.”