I wake tied to a couple of amps smashed together like a bad joke of a table. My vision is fuzzy, but the pressure against my back is unmistakable.
I don’t remember how I got here, just flashes of standing in line outside the venue hall, eager to see my favorite band after spending all my savings on their VIP tickets. They must have let me at some point.
My vision clears, revealing Didi—my idol and favorite front vocalist—leaning over me, smelling heavy of hairspray and deodorant. She flashes me her pearly whites, her million chain necklaces almost smacking me in the face.
I try to ask her too many questions, but the panic muddles them all and I don’t even make sense to myself.
Sweaty leather is shoved into my mouth, muffling me. I twist in my bindings, tight electrical cords, but I can’t escape. Can’t move at all.
Someone hands Didi a guitar, an arm decked in snake tattoos. Alex, my first crush. Didi checked the tuning, then starts with a calm opening. Vibrations and sound rip into my back as I recognize my favorite song, “Forever Repaying.”
Ready?” Didi asks, the evil glint in her eyes disconcerting.
I try to say no, but there’s another strum of guitar, another crashing wave of vibration. Hands twist knobs on the amps, turning the volume up.
“Another one for the Goddess of Music,” Didi sings, swapping the guitar for a knife.
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