SuperStar!

Ethan stood on the stage, bathed in the dazzling lights, the energy of the arena crackling like electricity in the air. The crowd was still riding the high of Young Dumb and Broke, their cheers and screams blending into a symphony of excitement that seemed to shake the very ground beneath his feet.

He took a moment to soak it all in, walking slowly toward the center of the stage as the deafening roar grew even louder. The stadium felt alive, a pulsating entity fueled by the collective energy of 80,000 voices. Ethan held his mic to his side, looking out into the sea of fans. His lips curled into a smile as he reached the middle of the stage, lifting the mic to his mouth just as the familiar piano chords of 7 Years (by Lukas Graham) began to play.

The crowd erupted. The screams weren't just loud—they were thunderous, filled with a mix of surprise, joy, and sheer admiration. The melody washed over the arena, and Ethan closed his eyes for a moment, letting the music guide him. Then, his voice cut through the sound, soft and hauntingly beautiful:

🎵 "Once I was seven years old

My mama told me, 'Go make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely...'" 🎵

The words hung in the air like magic, the crowd instantly joining in. Their voices rose in harmony, filling the space with a breathtaking chorus that seemed to stretch to the heavens. Ethan opened his eyes mid-verse and froze for a second, overcome by the sight before him.

The entire stadium was singing. Every voice, every soul in the building seemed to know the words, their collective sound so powerful it sent shivers down his spine. He stepped toward the edge of the stage, the mic lowered as he let them take over.

🎵 "It was a big, big world, but we thought we were bigger..." 🎵

Ethan stopped singing entirely, holding his mic down by his side and simply staring. The crowd carried the song as if it was their own, their voices blending into something raw and achingly beautiful. He walked closer to the edge of the stage, looking down at the first few rows, then back at the mass of faces stretching to the farthest corners of the arena.

The sight mesmerized him. Phones lit up the space like a galaxy of stars, and Ethan could see people swaying, tears streaming down some faces as they sang with everything they had. He crouched down near the edge, resting one hand on his knee, the other holding the mic loosely. He didn't sing—he just listened. His heart pounded in time with the beat, his chest swelling with emotion as he watched the crowd pour their hearts into the song.

🎵 "Soon we'll be thirty years old, our songs have been sold..." 🎵

When the song reached its final verses, Ethan stood back up, taking a step away from the edge. He raised the mic back to his lips, his voice strong yet tinged with emotion as he joined them for the ending:

🎵 "I hope my children come and visit once or twice a month..." 🎵

The crowd followed him, their voices a gentle echo to his, and as the song concluded, the arena erupted in applause and cheers so loud they seemed to ripple through the city itself. Ethan stood there for a moment, his hand on his chest, overwhelmed by the beauty of what had just transpired.

He raised the mic again, his voice soft but filled with gratitude. "That... that was incredible. You guys have no idea how much that meant to me. Hearing you sing, seeing you feel the music... it's why I do this. It's why I love this." He paused, glancing around the crowd, as if trying to take in every face. "I hate to say it, but this night is almost over."

The crowd roared their disapproval, and Ethan chuckled. "I know, I know. But before we end, I want to give you something special—a song that's very close to me. A new one."

He walked back toward the middle of the stage, his steps deliberate. Placing the mic gently on a stand, he stood there for a moment as the lights around the arena dimmed. Darkness engulfed the space, except for a single spotlight that illuminated Ethan, his silhouette glowing against the black void.

And then, the world waited.

P.S please if you want to support me by sending gifts you can send it to my other books as this book can't send gifts thanks so much for reading