The murder of The Voice singer Christina Grimmie revealed in agonizing minute-by-minute detail: Her brother watched every 'evil' moment - and even grabbed her killer with his bare hands. Now he's telling the full horror of that day...

There was nothing very remarkable about that June morning. The Orlando weather was hot and humid, like so many summer days in Florida.

Marcus Grimmie was on tour as a guitarist and manager for his sister, Christina Grimmie, a singer whose star was on the ascendant after a stand-out run on talent show The Voice.

The siblings had breakfast together, and called their parents. It was June 10, 2016. They were set to play one of their final gigs that night and were eager to return home to New Jersey after months on the road.

Hours later, Christina, 22, was sitting at a table signing autographs at a meet-and-greet. It was routine. When a shy young man approached, she opened her arms for a hug, as she often did with fans. In that moment, Kevin Loibl pulled out a gun and shot her at point-blank range. She was hit twice in the chest and once in the head.

Marcus was at a merchandise table just feet away. As his sister fell, he ran toward her attacker and tackled him to the floor.

But the 27-year-old gunman escaped from Marcus's hold, backed up against a wall and shot himself dead. 

'It felt like it had to be 10 minutes,' Marcus told the Daily Mail in an exclusive interview for the tenth anniversary of his sister's death. 'But it might have just been like four or five. Something that happened so quick changed all of our lives forever.'

At first, Marcus had thought it was a prank, some sort of sick joke – the gun seemed fake, the 'loud pop' that he heard the product of a toy.

It was only when he saw his sister slump to the ground that he realized how horribly real it all was. 

In the chaos that followed, as the crowd of 120 or so fans scattered and panicked, a bystander desperately stepped up and started performing CPR on Christina. Police reported receiving multiple 911 calls following the shooting between 10.24pm and 10.30pm.

First responders were on the scene within two minutes and Christina was transported to Orlando Regional Medical Center – the nearest Level 1 trauma unit.

There, medics fought a losing battle to save the young singer's life. She was declared dead at 2.51am the next morning, and in that moment so many lives were shattered.

Now 33, Marcus is remarkably calm recalling an event so traumatic it is hard to comprehend. That demeanor has been the work of the past decade – of learning to accept that, however protective he was of his baby sister, her death was out of his control.

'There's nothing that I could have done in the moment,' he said. 'So many families have gone through the same thing, losing a loved one in this way. And that thing is, it's done, it's over, there's nothing you could do.'

It would later transpire that Christina's shooter had brought two guns with him that night. He had purchased both – different models of Glock 9mm handguns – legally and waited out the five-day chilling period required by Florida law before picking them up.

He collected the first weapon on May 31 and the second on June 7. When police examined his body, they found two handgun magazines in his pocket, a tactical knife strapped to his ankle, a Florida driver's license and a ticket for Christina's show – printed out five days earlier.

The gunman left no note, no manifesto, no explanation of what drove him to act in such a devastating way.

His phone was encrypted meaning police could not extract any data. He had, investigators believed, deliberately destroyed his computer hard drive. Christina had not received any threatening emails or texts, and it did not appear that the two had ever been in contact.

But, according to the police report, his long-term friend, Cory Dennington, told officers that he had become obsessed with Christina across the past six months to a year.

He spent hours watching her on YouTube and constantly monitored her social media accounts. He claimed to be an atheist but told his friend that Christina's faith had brought a change of heart. If there was a God, he told his friend, 'he had seen it in her.'

Ten years on, Marcus says it doesn't matter what motivated the senseless act. He is less focused on the past than he is on preventing incidents like this from happening in the future.

'It was just an act of selfishness, evil,' he said. 'That was it. I never wrestled with the whys. I was able to make peace with it. I know that this is who I am now in the wake of losing her and it's made me ask myself, "What can I do to help other people?"'

The answer is the Christina Grimmie Foundation, launched by her family to raise money for others who have also lost loved ones to gun violence.

It operates without corporate sponsors and is supported entirely by donations. Tori Kelly, a fellow contestant on The Voice, who has gone on to achieve the sort of fame that might have been Christina's had she lived, has been a vocal supporter.

Since the foundation's creation in 2017, it has given away $600,000 in grants to more than 300 families across the US – an impact that Marcus hopes will be as much a part of Christina's legacy as her music.

'I want her to be remembered as a great singer and person,' he said. 'Even though she isn't here anymore, she's still having an impact on people who were affected by the same thing that happened to her and our family.'

Marcus carries the memory of Christina with him daily. She became instantly beloved online at 15, posting YouTube videos of herself singing covers of songs by artists such as Miley Cyrus. But long before millions of strangers heard her voice, Marcus knew his sister was an exceptional talent.

He said she was always kind, caring, generous and down-to-earth, even as her fame grew and she became a sensation on The Voice in 2014, catching the interest of judge Adam Levine. He championed her career – and he paid for her funeral. To this day, Christina's 'family' at The Voice, including Levine and fellow judges Blake Shelton and Christina Aguilera, have always been supportive.

'Christina could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the world,' Marcus said. 'She had a genuine interest in people. Her mix of talent and work ethic made her a very rare breed.'

Growing up, the siblings spent hours laughing and playing video games. Christina was Marcus's confidante and best friend. 'She's remembered as a powerful vocalist who commanded the stage, this TV star and YouTube star but, to me, she's just like a nerdy, funny gamer who happened to be able to sing.'

Even a decade on, he still sometimes can't believe that she has gone. Just a year older than his sister, he is painfully aware that he has checked off milestones that she never had the chance to experience, like getting married and moving across the country.

'There's the [idea that] time heals all wounds, which in a sense it does with the intensity. It doesn't hurt the same way, but the scars are still there.

'She was only 22 when she was killed. It's crazy to think that she'd be 32 now. I can't imagine what kind of singer she would be, what kind of gamer she would be, what kind of person she would be. I can't imagine and it's a shame to not be able to see it.'

For a long time after his sister's death, Marcus couldn't bring himself to play music. But in 2024 he joined an electronic band and, he said, the experience has been healing.

Now on the road with The Living Tombstone as a guitarist and tour manager, he often thinks of Christina and their time together touring: days filled with inside jokes, exploring new cities and enjoying late night wind-downs after a gig.

'After she was killed, I never really wanted to do it again. The idea of touring with anyone that's not her just seemed impossible. But there are certain days it feels almost euphoric and takes me back to fun times where Christina and I were just brother and sister, doing life together,' he said.

As the anniversary approaches, Marcus is practicing gratitude as a daily act in memory of Christina.

'When grief hits, it can be like a storm out at sea – you just have to handle it,' he said. 'We all came together and got closer despite whatever waves and wind came. Grief is definitely not gone, but it's a motivating factor to keep the fire. It keeps me humble and reminds me that this job is not finished. We're still breathing and gun violence is still a thing. We still have a job to do.'

To commemorate the ten years since Christina's death, the foundation will host Grimmie Fest, a three-day concert event in the family's home state in celebration of her all-too-brief life. There is also legislation in the works to make June 10 'Christina Grimmie Day' in New Jersey, to honor the late singer and bring attention to the issue of gun violence and its impact on victims and their families.

When Marcus speaks to families who have lost someone to gun violence, the pain from losing his sister 'feels fresh every time.'

But he chooses to see that grief as testament to the love that preceded it. It shows, he said: 'Just how powerful it is to care so much about someone that it changes your whole life when they're gone.

'My dad famously says we don't want the shooting to be the main thing [that people remember about Christina]. I half agree because it's [only] a part of her story... look at all the lives that she's touched, still touches.'