�Sometimes I feel like a prophet Misunderstood Under the gun like a new disease��

The lyrics bore down into my head as I listened to the vocalist of Linkin Park, Chester Bennington, as he close in on the audience at his front, and reaches out for them just to shake hands and give high-fives. Indeed, the people enjoyed their concert here in the Philippines�and I was one of them. I was seated at the front, farthest left edge, but the seats are of no use anymore because the people are already standing, shaking themselves and even rolling over the crowd. I really liked them not because of their looks, as everybody loved, but because of their lyrics�the powerful words that construct those lines, they�re fitted to describe me and my life�it�s�. Forget that! I am enjoying the show very much. Mike! He�s rapping the song �Papercut� I can�t help but to adore how cute he is. It�s very true, isn�t it? People around me are pushing and pulling, and another bumps me, almost knocking my bag down. Chester�s already singing the chorus, people are screaming out looooouuuuuddd�you rock, Chester!

�Chester, You are so cooollll!!!� I managed to shout out loud and the people around me stopped and stared at me. How I wish he heard it!

�Ow, shit. The show�s already done!� I cursed as I saw Chester walk towards the corner.

�Thanks to you all. Have a nice fuckin� night.� He stated.

People began turning away from the stage. I fixed my backpack and headed away.I was near at the exit when�.

�Ops! I forgot somethin�.� I realized. It was a hard way back because I am heading for the opposite direction.

A voice boomed out: �Miss�is this yours?� it asked. I can�t see who it was. Then, a hand pulled me back to the inside.

�Is this yours?� it repeated.

�Who the�� I stopped and almost bit my tongue out upon seeing who the person was. A slight gasp escaped me�

�Is this?� he repeated once more.

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