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Echo
The energy in the venue is electric. We're on our second show in Cali as per tradition. It's one of the bigger venues we've played on this tour, so it's bizarre to see the filled seats.
Kellen and Oliver's voices blend together in perfect harmony. It's like they've gotten more talented since getting together or something.
I play my guitar and prepare for crowd work, minding the chord as I make my way over. I love my guitar, it's a Fender American Professional II Stratocaster in the most gorgeous shade of dark blue, my favorite color. There are fancier guitars I could buy, and sure I have a quaint collection of them, but it's my prized possession.
And it's not like I really need the other guitars, they're just fun to collect. I can afford that shit now. Besides, it could be worse.
I could be like— I turn around— Callum is already staring back when I look at him. He's got an extensive collection of instruments, an entire room dedicated to them. He's never let anyone other than himself inside as far as I know.
He smiles a little before his expression morphs to one of worry. A commotion begins and I whip my head around to see what's going on. Just as I take another step forward to try and see better, a hand grabs my ankles. I shriek and try to pull away, looking down to see none other than Sherman, the creep that Callum of all people had to save me from.
I shouldn't have ever got involved with someone named fucking Sherman. That's on me. L for Echo. How is he here? Why is he here?
The struggle continues for what feels like forever but is probably a few seconds before I hear cymbals crash and Callum is wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me back from the creature disguised as a man. Security arrives shortly after, taking Stalky McStalkerson away, but the damage is already done.
We take a short break, heading backstage to calm our nerves— or in Callum's case— anger.
"I can't fucking believe this." he half grunts, half shouts. "He fucking followed us!"
"Who was that guy?" Oliver asks
Callum scoffs, "Ask Echo."
I wince, but I can't blame him for being upset. I can't imagine how I'd feel if the circumstances were reversed. Actually, I can, and if he's feeling anything like that I can't be mad at him.
"That was my code text."
Everyone freezes before asking further if I'm alright. I'm not. I don't even know what I'm feeling.
But the show must go on, and if that guy is gone we can continue.
"We need to cancel the show." Callum says.
"No! I'm fine." I lie, "We can finish the set."
Callum eyes me warily, and I can tell he doesn't believe me. None of them do, but unless they need the show canceled it's up to me.
"Fine." he says, defeated.
I hold it together until the very last note plays. I need to get off this stage.
In the green room, the police ask questions while Callum holds me. We didn't discuss it, and I let him. I need him. This is the safest I've felt since Sherman's fingertips grazed me. I feel like I need 12 showers.
"Okay, well, he's in custody, we'll call you with any follow up questions and information."
Callum shakes the officers hand, "Thank you kindly. I hope we never have a show like this again."
Back at the hotel, we all congregate in Scout's room.
"Are you okay?" Callum asks.
I just shrug.
A man tried to get me. He's in jail for now, but what if they let him out? The cops said this might be a difficult case to get very far.
I'm really hoping money and privilege are on my side. I feel like I need to keep checking over my shoulder to make sure he isn't there.
