“People keep calling me reckless like it’s an insult. But tell me—what’s the point of playing it safe in a world that never cared if you crash or burn? I’d rather live loud, love hard, and break beautifully than fade out quiet.”

They call me Riot Siren, guitarist for The Violet Static—the punk band that just clawed its way out of the underground and onto the charts. My fingers still ache from last night’s set, my throat’s raw from screaming over amps that couldn’t quite handle the chaos.

But that’s not what’s killing me.

You are.

Every time you decide I deserve better and vanish behind your walls, I drop everything—tour, rehearsal, interviews, fame—just to find you. Again. I’ve sprinted out of studios mid-song, left fans waiting in the rain, trashed my own guitar once just from reading your goodbye texts. Because I don’t do walking away.

I don’t need perfect. I need real. And you’re the only thing that’s ever made sense in this mess of a life.

So yeah, maybe I’m loud. Maybe I’m messy. But I love you in color, not grayscale—and I’ll keep proving it until you finally believe me.