Colours flashed from every direction, the crowd cheered greatly, waving around their yellow glow-sticks in their shrill applause. Some were even shouting my name.
"Len! I'm your greatest faaan!"
Girls squeaked from left, right and below. Thousands of people attended that day, believing they were our fans – my fans – believing they knew everything about us – about me.
They know nothing!
The 'Len' they knew was not me, nothing. It was nothing more than a persona they had built up. An expensive façade created for the illusion of their own twisted minds.
A clenching feel grew in my heart, one that would drive me to finally break this mad performance, break me free from the bars my managers have placed for me.
The music played——the spotlight appeared on me——I held my microphone still, parallel to the ground as I slowly released all my anger, my frustration, built up under years of concealment. I smashed the device on the stage; the speakers screeched and the crowd gasped, almost as if in staged unison.
I took a final deep breath as I finally announced under my own voice, "This show——IS OVER!"
I ran through the curtains backstage, met by the vicious, malicious wrath of my own damned sister, furious that I had ruined her show; though it was not.
"What are you doing!?"
"Get out there and fix what you've done, you ungrateful brat!" The famous twin-tailed girl told demeaningly. Oh, if only they knew what really happens backstage, their real personalities.
"I'm doing what I want!" I told them sharply. Everyone gathered around me, putting up and clear their annoyed selfish faces, full of amusing frustration – it was now my turn to enjoy and bask in their shattered visage, broken under the effect of their fury and perhaps even their own excessive make-up.
Suited men then arrived, composed under their own design as they whispered to one another of my misbehaviour. I took my chance to break out and run. Run somewhere, anywhere they – or anyone who knew that disgusting, fake 'Len' for that matter – would not find me.