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*emerges from headphones covered in blood* the album's really good you should listen

I stagger into the room, fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger buried in my chest. "Gesthemane is so good," I whisper.

Do you wanna hold my hand and go stargazing? We can kiss

"Are you okay" nope the frontman of my fucking comfort band wrote about how he feels like he's been trapped in a music box by us and the stage he's on has become a prison, and about how he's afraid to open his front door because of how many times he and his band members have been doxxed and his dream now has a bitter taste but he's still glad we're here and he'll still dance for us and with us

GO BACK! ITS A PAINTING!