the crowd was electric. My friends were off getting drinks, le

d in my hand.

top of the screen read: "C

art s

n the library for a marathon study session. He' d sent me a picture of his textbooks thi

wash over me despit

spot was close enough for my

crane swung over the crowd. The face of the festival

he love tonight? Our crowd cam is loo

stopped, zeroing in on me. My face, confused and

! You got the mic. Who

one. My mind raced, connecting the dots. The

spoke into the mic, the sou

or someone. It' s a los

along. "Oh yeah?

wearing a very specific outfit tonight. A vintage Nirvana t-shirt, the

wn me on FaceTime last week, telling m

my eyes scanning the massive screens. "So if you s

e VIP sections, the places I could never afford but he might sneak

hey fou

s arm draped around a blonde girl in a tiny pink top. He was wearing the Nir

erupted into a chaoti

ces frozen in horror as they saw my close-up, then

He just held his mic, w

nto the camera. My

nd h

k a b

tramp, may you be mise

d the mi

re d

k. I pulled out my phone, deleted his contact, and blocked his number before h