Beloved Billy, I’ve been a fan of yours since I was 12 years old. The first CD I ever had in my life was Mellon Collie. Then I bought the rest, your book of poems, James’ solo album, the HUF skateboard. Everything. Today, I brought the Mellon Collie songbook and a marker, dreaming of the slightest possibility that you might sign it for me thanks to my artist pass for the area where you go from backstage to the stage. And I approached you, like a child on Christmas when Santa Claus arrives, and you addressed me to say, “get the fuck away.” Aware of the nerves before going on stage, I understand, but I go home wrapped in tears, shattered. It hurts so much.