Keianna

I’m not sure how I got back to there but I was in the middle of Camp Flog Gnaw, in the midst of one of the worst panic attacks I’ve had in a while, screaming that I wanted to go home. I don’t know why this happened. I should be able to walk to the bathroom without a random guy throwing his arm around me and telling people around us that I was his girlfriend and to just ignore my screams because we were fighting. I told them I wasn’t but I guess no one believed me. They didn’t do anything. He ran into a crowd when I started pushing him away. His name was Adrian—or at least that’s what he told me. I wish he would have told me his last name too. I wish I could have gotten a picture of him.

My friends were so supportive. They stood around me while and let me freak out for a bit. They let me know that it wasn’t my fault and that if I see the guy that I should tell them. My best friend said she wouldn’t be satisfied until she got to punch him in the face. I secretly hoped that we’d catch him on one of the many mosh pits just so I can show him how it feels to be uncomfortable.

The rest of the weekend was wonderful. I saw my favorite artist lives and my favorite song by Tyler, The Creator TWICE. Lil’ Yachty highjacked ASAP Rocky’s set and my thirteen-year-old dreams were fulfilled when Lana Del Rey stepped on stage. I hope one day I can go to a show again and feel completely safe. ♦