Silence.

Complete and utter silence.

Juniper stared at the soda slowly spreading over the floor. The cup was still crushed in Sherman's... no, Warren's hand. Sharp edges protruded at every angle. She was almost worried he'd cut himself but the worry was a dim echo amidst the stunned silence in her mind.

"So, that's me," he finally said, gesturing to the screen. "I'm sure you're wondering how I got here."

Any wider and Juniper's eyes might have made a jump from her skull. "That was a terrible joke," she finally said in a voice that sounded distant to her own ears.

Sherman sighed, standing to toss the cup into the trash. He returned with the entire roll of paper towels and a cleaning spray. "Do you think this will be okay on the leather?" he asked. Green liquid sloshed in the spray bottle. Nothing about it looked safe for anything.

"I don't know anything about leather," Juniper told him. "But I don't think that's the right choice." She stood next, snatching the bottle out of his hand. "Just use soap and water."

"That doesn't sound right either," he murmured.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Rockstar. As a mere college student I am unfamiliar with the ways of leather care and maintenance," Juniper snapped. She threw the bottle back at him. It hit his arm and crashed to the floor between them. Someone in the apartment below banged on their ceiling. The vibrations went through her feet, anchoring her back in reality.

"There it is," Sherman said. "The soap and water is right, by the way." They stepped into the kitchen together to fill a small bowl with warm water and soap. "You can ask your questions."

Juniper waited until he was on his second pass of warm water on the couch before she spoke. "Your name is Warren?"

"Warren Palin, Sherman is just the first name I saw on one of those name generator websites" he confirmed. "And yes, I do actually play the guitar and to finally answer your question, I only avoided the karaoke because it would have blown my cover. I realize that's pretty obvious now and I should have had a better lie prepared."

"Yeah that would have been a good idea," Juniper agrees. She takes her seat back on the clean sofa while the other dries. The burger looks completely unappetizing now even though she'd confirmed he was definitely most likely not a murderer luring her in with food. "The celebrity you said moved in because of the stalker, that was you?"

Warren took the seat next to her with some hesitation. "I started getting their letters last year mixed in with the regular fanmail. Don't roll your eyes, celebrities get fanmail," he added after she rolled her eyes.

"You just said it so casually, like it's no big deal. Oh my name's Warren and I get piles and piles of fanmail," she said, pitching her voice to a lower baritone in a poor imitation of his.

"It's not piles," he mutters. "Anyway, the letters. They were normal at first, I didn't even notice them really. Even the one with hair was pretty tame in comparison."

"Hair?" Juniper wrinkled her nose and leaned back from him.

"I didn't keep it, stop looking at me like that," he groaned. Warren shook his head and leaned back into the couch cushions behind him. "They started saying the weirdest shit about our entwined destiny and whatever. I finally reported them to my manager when I got the one with the photos."

There was a brief pause before Juniper leaned in with her fingers splayed on the couch between them. Her eyes were wide again, this time with curiosity. "Nude ones?"

Warren snorted, his laughs turning into coughs as he fought to catch his breath. "Do you think that would be enough to send me running to the other side of the country?" he asked.

"Nudes are no joke man, I'd run for the hills and never come back if I got a dick pic," she said.

"Well it wasn't anything like that. They were photos of graves, sometimes knives, and the notes went on and on about past lives," he continued. "My manager upped security at our shows and had someone start combing through my mail just in case. They finally sent me here when I got the photos delivered through my mail box. One was a shot of me through my bedroom window."

Juniper shuddered, trying to shake off the unease that settled over her. "That's creepy. Couldn't the police find them?"

"They're trying, trust me, but they all thought it would just be better if I was also somewhere safe," he explained. Warren stood to check the other couch, running his hand over the cushion. His hand came away still slightly damp and he returned to the space beside her. "This is actually my cousin's place. She's an engineer and she's on vacation in the Netherlands."

"Swanky," Juniper said under her breath. The whole place suddenly had a new feel to it. There was less of an empty feel to it and more of an efficient one. "Does the doorman know?"

"Gerald? Yeah, and he's really not as bad as he seems. They briefed him and he had this whole spiel about his nephew loving our band and how he's read up on us and our backstories. I think it would have been creepy if he didn't give off such proud dad vibes. Anyway he's really into my safety," Warren explained.

The news had moved onto something more gruesome now, the noise a quiet hum in the background. It helped filter some of the whirling thoughts in Juniper's head. "Why have me over then? That seems awfully risky given the circumstances. I could have been a super fan you know."

"Why do you think I brought up the band at the cafe? Your general disinterest was the driving force in marking you as safe," Warren said. The playful smirk was back, unmarred by the worry that had hovered behind his eyes. "Plus, the detectives thought it would be good for me to surround myself with safe people so I would look more like I blended in. Less hiding pop star more average college kid."

"Uh huh," Juniper said slowly. Something about his words irritated her.

"I suggested something more long term, like a girlfriend," he continued. "The stalker is looking for a lone guy being all withdrawn. My theory was someone of midrange popularity would be the best shield. Then you popped up and it was like the heavens had given me the easiest route ever."

That was it, the irritation, she understood now. Without another word, Juniper stood and turned to retrieve her shoes. "Right, sensible."

Warren got to his feet, trailing after her to the door. "Where are you going? Wait, you're not going to tell anyone right?"

"Do you hear the words that come out of your mouth or do they need to be on beat for you to understand them?" Juniper snapped. The soles of her shoes squeaked on the hardwood floor. "A shield? Midrange popularity?" The pitch of her voice rose steadily with each word. She jammed a finger at his chest, forcing him to take a step backwards.

"I can see how maybe that wasn't phrased very well," he began.

Juniper cut him off before he could get any further. "I don't want anything to happen to you because of me and that's why I wouldn't have told anyone one way or another. Let's be so clear about that. It doesn't mean I want to be paraded around like you give a shit just so you look like a normal college student."

"Jnuiper..."

"Newsflash, dumbass, I am a normal college student and that isn't a fun costume for you to try on and collect all the accessories," she went on. "Go ahead and do your witness protection adjacent bullshit but leave me out of it Sherman, Warren, whatever your stupid name is."

His callused fingers grazed her wrist as he tried to pull her back towards him. "That isn't how I meant for that to come out. You weren't an easy addition to the facade, just a right place at the right time kind of thing."

Juniper jerked her wrist free and jammed both hands into her pockets. "I thought you had an actual interest, not this fake shit. Good luck with all of this," she muttered, gesturing to the space around them. "I need to get back to the dorms, I have an early practice session." If he reached for her or said anything, Juniper didn't hear. She was completely in her own world as she slammed the door behind her and sought out the stairs to the exit.