“[lua / illi / adam!]„

Chapter One

As the star got up on stage everything came at them at once. The binding lights, screaming fans, the background music, the adrenaline felt good.

Everyone knew of the star

Not their true self—almost nobody remembered that anymore but just the mask they put up. After the small gig the band played that night the star went backstage into the bathroom, closing the door behind them before going over to the sink and splashing water on themselves.

”Smile”

The voice came from behind them

The star looked up and into the mirror. It was nobody. Just their mind.

”You look tired”

”I am tired.”

”Then stop looking like it”

The star laughed, not because it was funny.

The manager, that’s what the star called this voice. The manager never seemed human. He always appears at the worst moments, whispering into their ear.

You need to work harder.

You sounded awful tonight.

You are not enough.

The strange thing is nobody else seemed to hear him.

The drummer didn’t.

The guitarist didn’t.

The fans certainly didn’t.

Only the star.

The manager followed them everywhere.

Backstage.

Hotel rooms.

Interviews.

Even the quiet moments when everyone else had gone home.

Especially then.

—

Months had passed.

The band’s success grew.

So did the manager.

He became taller somehow.

Louder.

More demanding.

Every achievement became another reason they weren’t good enough.

A sold-out show?

Could've sold more tickets.

A hit song?

You will never write another one.

Thousands of screaming fans?

Wait until they realize who you really are.

The star stopped sleeping much.

Stopped recognizing themselves in mirrors.

Some days they would stare at their reflection and feel like they were looking at a stranger's face.

Who am I when not performing?

The question terrified them.

Because they didn’t know the answer.

—

One night after a concert, the star sat alone in a hotel room. The city’s lights reflected through the window. The hotel room was silent besides the loud hum of the air conditioner. The star sat on the floor of the hotel room still wearing half their stage makeup.

The manager's voice filled every corner of the room.

”You embarrassed yourself out there tonight”

”They are getting tired of you.”

”Soon they will see who you truly are.”

Star scratched at their wrist until it bled, focusing on the sharp pain instead of the noise in their head. For a moment it drowned everything out. The manager had gone quiet. The room stopped spinning. It felt good. But the relief lasted only seconds before the emptiness had only lasted seconds, heavier than before. 

The star looked down at their wrists, seeing old blood be replaced by new. They were exhausted. No matter how many times they tried to escape themselves. The feelings never stayed gone.

They got up and went over to the small lonely bathroom in the hotel room, turning on the faucet and running water over the new self inflicted wounds. The star grabbed a washcloth and ran water over it before putting it on their wrist. They looked themselves in the mirror and standing behind them.

The manager.