The crowd pulsed as one, bodies pressed together, swaying and shifting like waves under flashing lights, all chanting together in unison.

- "ELARA RAY! ELARA RAY! ELARA RAY!"

They were all chanting the singer's pop star name, Elara RAY. Her real name was Eleanor Stallor, but few knew it as she had lived under the pop star persona since the young age of fifteen. She was twenty-five now, at the height of her career. She stood on stage, the blinding lights turned on her, feeling small under this ocean of praise, yet still feeling bigger than anything as she was in her element.

The air was thick, every eye on her with full expectation, the tingling feeling of pressure tackling her heart. But as she took another breath, she remembered that all she had to do was sing.

The show had begun. She sang all those typical pop love songs that everyone had heard before, but her voice could convey emotions in such a way that everyone who heard it was affected.

Everything was going well. Fans threw their hands into the air, screaming lyrics back at the stage, their faces alight with passion, lost in a shared dream of music and movement. Neon lights flashed overhead, casting bright splashes of red and blue over the crowd, turning every face into a kaleidoscope of color and shadow.

But she still craved something real, something with substance... something that could make her feel seen...

Singing the songs that her manager or mother had chosen, no one noticed the insincerity of her words, only she did. Is this why she sings? 

To be just a performer?

Why did she begin singing in the first place?

This thought hit her, and she stopped on her tracks. Silence suddenly reigned. The crowd was confused by her sudden pause.

Her manager, bewildered by this, was shaken, since Eleanor has never made a decision on her own.

- "What does she think she's doing!?"

He muttered under his breath, trying to regulate his anger. He wanted to stop the show right then, but then he suddenly heard Eleanor’s voice again. This wasn’t one of the songs they had agreed upon; it was one she wrote herself.

Eleanor closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. In this moment, nothing else existed—the worries, the doubts, the endless, aching questions of why.

Here, in the glow of the music and the crowd, she was free, even if just for a song’s length. 

She sang, her voice broke the throbbing silence, each note trembling in her throat as if it were trying to escape from a place buried deep inside her. 

Now, she truly had everyone's attention, all on her and her words.

No matter what, she wanted to be part of something vast, something untouchable and real, something that she had chosen for herself, no one else—only her.

Don't you worry

Just for tonight

Enjoy the glory

Of reaching the light

I think that is just nice,

But it cut my heart in slices.

I felt the "but" you said that night,

About how you weren't feeling the delight.

I thought that everything was just right,

Didn't know that I was blinded by the light.

I can dream however I want,

Show hope as a front.

But nothing escaped the hunt,

My heart couldn't resist the taunt.

Can I ever be free?

Can I claim to be me?

I crave something that has been carved in me.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I blame someone that has birthed me.

I can't cry or scream,

Can't break in stream,

Only breathe in steel.

I can't cut the deal.

My hands are always cold.

By the way, it was never told

That a hug was never done,

And I'm standing here all alone.

Is this the mask I was born to wear?

Or is there someone real under there?

Is everyone so fragile

That I have to wear a smile?

I dream for a day you'll see the way

That you succeeded in making me stay,

By making me a pretty doll,

But ignoring the big fall.

I'm not made of clay.

I'm not made to stay.

I'm not an object!

Get me out of this project!

At first, I didn't get what was wrong.

All I learned was singing a song.

No place to have fun,

It's an endless run.

Nothing can be done.

Is the passion gone?

In a mirror of shadows, I see who I've become,

A porcelain doll, hollow and numb.

Can I get free?

Can I have a me?

Or is this what I was supposed to be?

Can I even be able to flee?

Or is freedom something I'll never see?

I'm stuck with no me.

The audience just stared, eyes wide open. It was not a pop song.

Eleanor's heart was racing; she had poured her heart into this. For the first time in a long time, a genuine big grin tugged at her lips.

Her breath hitched, and as tears slid down her cheeks, a rush of conflicting emotions surged through her—relief, regret, joy, fear. She couldn't name them, but they were real, and that made her feel something again.

As she wiped away the tears, Eleanor couldn’t tell if they were from relief or regret. The applause thundered, but inside, a hollow ache grew louder with each cheer.

However the moment didn't last as she was quickly taken away, and the concert ended early.

After the rush of emotions, she felt dazed by everything. She slept more easily than usual and felt at peace, even though she knew that the next morning, nothing would be the same since she had done something that had never happened before.

She did something unscripted, she reached out to nothing and tightened her grip on the air like she was catching hope with a smile.

In the morning, she woke up. Everything still felt unreal, a wide grin couldn't leave her face   just thinking about what she did, not caring about the consequences, she finally heard her heart pounding.

Her fleeting happiness was interrupted when her mother barged in, the usual heavy makeup and weariness in her face. Eleanor's heart sank, but the thrill of the night before refused to fade completely.

- "Do you have any idea what you've done!? You didn't follow  the script like always. Do you want to give your old mother a heart attack ? Never do that again, your poor mother almost had a stroke just hearing about it. Thank God, I wasn't present or I would have taken you off the stage earlier. I complained thoughtfully to your manager about it"

The yelling thumping her ears, she could hear a buzz of noise, like the irritating sound of ants crawling under her skin, at the moment her smile could only be upside down. 

Her mother had been a failed singer, her own dream of performing on stage evaporating the day her throat gave out after years of over-singing. It was a deep-seated regret that never quite left her. 

As Eleanor grew, her mother vowed that her daughter would not suffer the same fate. Every part of Eleanor’s life was meticulously structured, carefully molded to ensure that Eleanor would achieve everything her mother never could.

Wherever Eleanor went, her mother’s shadow loomed—always guiding, always pushing, and always watching, making sure her daughter never strayed from the path that had been set for her.

She had made Eleanor into a star in her own image, even better than she ever was. Eleanor was more successful, more polished, more everything her mother had imagined for herself but never attained. 

In her eyes, Eleanor was the success she could never be, and that pride, while suffocating, was all that Eleanor’s mother had left.

Eleanor picked up some things her mother said. Apparently, the mishap of yesterday had been leaked. Someone filmed her during the concert, even though it was against the rules, and now she's trending on social media. From her mother’s nagging, she couldn't understand if the attention was positive or negative.

- "So, sweetie, we're taking a break. No singing for you, missy, until you resolve this attitude. I'm too old to deal with this and you are too old to try to rebel. You were more obedient as a teenager"

When she heard what her mother said, she tried her hardest not to roll her eyes. Her teenage years, a sad reminder of a wasted youth.

She just sighed.

- "Yes, mother."

The rest of the journey was uneventful—almost too quiet. She would have expected more chaos because of last night, but nothing was different.

She wondered if last night was just a dream. Her heart felt heavy just thinking about it. It was wonderful, and now it is never going to happen again.

A bitter pill to swallow, she couldn't just ignore this thirst for something more, for something real, but she was still where she always was.

Over the next few weeks, she still didn't know if she had received good or bad attention online because her manager had forbidden her from looking into social media. So, she was stuck with her own mind, wondering and thinking about everything.

Why does she train her vocals so hard?

Why?

Why!?

This constant echo in her mind was causing her headaches and making sleep impossible as she got no answers.

One day, her managers came to her with her mother during practice. They were both suspiciously smiling, so she asked:

- "Mother, what is wrong?"

Her mother looked at the manager like she was asking for permission to announce the big news. He nodded, then turned his gaze on Eleanor.

- "Sweetie, you are going to begin an acting career!"

She announced brightly, as if it were something amazing, she paused----what ? 

What did she just say !?

The manager butted in to explain and elaborate a bit.

- "We got you a role in a musical. The internet attention you got turned out to be beneficial for us, since some company contacted us. It's not confirmed yet, though, as you still need to audition for good measure. They need to know your acting skills."

Her stomach twisted as the news sank in. Acting? She had never even considered it. Her mother’s bright eyes only made the weight of the expectation heavier. 

Eleanor wanted to disappear.

-"My daughter is going to be a top-tier celebrity."

Her mother said in a dreamy tone, her eyes full of light acting like she was the one who is a celebrity. While her daughter's face pales at her excitement, she looks as white as a paper.

-"Ma'am, I think you need to leave so I can discuss the details for the preparation."

Her manager tried to keep things professional wearing his usual business smile, as her mother couldn’t be too involved anymore since Eleanor was no longer a minor.

-"Oh, silly me! I'm proud of you, sweetie. Good luck."

Her mother said lightheartedly before she left, she even waved goodbye but she could hear her heel sticking the ground, the noise echoing through the hallway. 

She looked at her manager's face only to see him roll his eyes at the sound, she felt her lungs draining as air was few but tried to focus on the conversation as hard as she could.

Acting was just pretending to be someone else—it was fake. 

Could she do it ?

Is anything real about her to fake ?

She looked her hands to calm herself down a bit so she could finally concentrate on his words, to try to understand the situation.

- "It won't be hard for you, I hired an acting coach and the filming set is happening in your old hometown. The audition is going to happen in one month, you are just going to memorise a scene and present it nothing hard."

He made it sound easy like it was just a trip, his lips smiling while his eyes held no trace of joy almost frustrated, like he was finding this bothersome.

Eleanor swallowed her saliva feeling a lump forming down her throat, her body stiff, fist tightened, she hardly nodded.

- "alright, we're leaving tomorrow so get ready young lady"

He clapped his hand once satisfied with her reaction and left with a smile as his work was done for today.

That night, the world spun faster than han ever, and she was left behind. Everything was changing, her career, her life, her identity but she remained still, frozen in the same place. Her mind raced, her body ached, but sleep wouldn’t come.

She's stuck.