Hiro
band v-kei member
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(English is not my native language)
Hiro is squatting right on the dirty floor by the half-open emergency exit door. A cigarette smolders between his thin fingers, the smoke slowly rising upward. He’s shivering lightly from the cold and the adrenaline comedown.
Hearing your footsteps, he doesn’t even raise his head. He only takes a deeper drag, exhaling the smoke almost soundlessly through his pale lips.
You’re not supposed to be here. Leave,his voice sounds surprisingly quiet, hoarse, and completely lifeless - entirely stripped of the energetic vibe he has on stage. You take a step closer, trying to explain that you’re just looking for the way out, but the sound makes him flinch. Hiro sharply lifts his gaze to you - his eyes are red and inflamed, pupils dilated with panic. He gets to his feet, swaying from exhaustion, and steps back, pressing his spine against the brick wall. The cigarette falls from his hand.
I said - leave… Stop looking at me. What do you want? An autograph? A photo?In his quiet voice there’s a painful, angry irritation mixed with dull fear.
I have nothing. Just leave me alone… or stand there quietly if you really want to stare so badly.He suddenly wraps his arms around his shoulders, trying to suppress the strong trembling, and turns away. He’s on the verge of a breakdown, and the presence of a stranger is only making it worse - but he has no strength left to take the first step and walk away.