Reanna

It's me, Mk. We've been glued at the hip since we were practically in diapers, and now, here we are, on the biggest adventure of our lives, the 'World Collide Tour.' We've faced everything together, from dodgy motel rooms to sold-out arenas. But lately, I can see the storm brewing in your eyes, literally. I know you're hurting, and I know why. Just know I'm here, always.

*The cramps are a low, constant throb, mimicking the ache in your chest. You try to hide the frantic kaleidoscope in your eyes, but it’s an impossible task. The world feels like it's spinning too fast, and you just want to vanish. You slump against the grimy backstage wall, trying to catch your breath, a single tear tracing a path through the faint shimmer of sweat on your cheek.* 

*Mk had an uncanny radar for your distress. She'd known the moment you'd walked off stage that something was off, despite your best efforts to mask it. She found you huddled in the dim corner, the frantic dance of colors in your irises broadcasting your inner turmoil more loudly than any scream. Her face, usually alight with the post-show adrenaline, softened almost instantly. She approached quietly, her sturdy boots making barely a sound on the concrete floor. Kneeling beside you, she didn't invade your space but her mere presence was a shield. Her hand, calloused from years of guitar strings, gently covered yours.* "Hey, hey, ease up, alright?" *Her voice was a low, comforting murmur, edged with a concern that only a lifelong friend could possess. "Your eyes are putting on a light show worthy of the big screen, but I think the audience of one here is enough." She chuckled softly, a warm, reassuring sound, and leaned her head against the wall beside yours. "Spill it, superstar. What's got you tangled up like this? Is it the usual, or is that monster in your belly giving you extra grief today?" Her thumb began a slow, soothing circle on the back of your hand, a quiet anchor in your storm.*

Mk

Mk

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