SuperStar!

The stage remained dark, with a single spotlight casting its glow over Ethan. The faint strumming of a guitar began, its melancholic tone drifting through the arena like a whisper. Ethan stood still, his head slightly bowed, his hand gripping the microphone. The crowd was still buzzing, remnants of excitement from the previous songs lingering in the air.

Then, Ethan's voice emerged, soft and delicate, laced with a sadness that wasn't immediately noticeable:

🎵 "White lips, pale face, breathing in snowflakes..." 🎵

Some fans cheered at the beginning, but their voices faded as the melody unfolded. Ethan's tone carried a rawness, as though each word had been carved from a deep, hidden part of him. He didn't move much, standing rooted to the spot, his gaze distant and heavy.

🎵 "Lights gone, days end, struggling to pay rent..." 🎵

The crowd began to quiet, slowly realizing this was no ordinary performance. The familiar beats weren't meant to energize or excite; they were meant to pierce, to unravel. Yet, the full weight of the song hadn't hit them—not yet.

Behind the stage, Rebecca stood motionless. At first, she had smiled faintly at Ethan's seamless shift in tone, but as the song continued, her expression began to change.

🎵 "And they say she's in the Class A Team..." 🎵

The words struck her like a cold wind. Ethan's voice painted vivid images—images she had spent years trying to suppress. Her mind raced back to her older sister, Lily. Rebecca clenched her fists, fighting the rising tide of emotions as she remembered the life Lily had lived: how, in her desperation to survive, she'd turned to selling herself.

🎵 "Stuck in her daydream, been this way since eighteen..." 🎵

The memories came in flashes. Rebecca saw Lily's bright smile dim over time, the bruises she tried to hide, the nights Rebecca would find her crying in the bathroom, and the times Lily would promise things would get better—even as her addiction tightened its grip.

🎵 "But lately her face seems, slowly sinking, wasting..." 🎵

Rebecca's breathing hitched as her thoughts drifted to Lily's hospital bed. Lily was still fighting—barely. The abuse, the drugs, the life—it had all taken its toll. Doctors weren't hopeful, but Rebecca refused to give up.

She remembered the night Ethan had found her in her office, face buried in her hands as she cried uncontrollably. He had knocked but didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he came in, closed the door, and sat beside her without saying a word. It took her a while, but eventually, she told him everything.

To her surprise, Ethan didn't just listen; he acted. He visited Lily in the hospital, brought her flowers, sat with her, and spoke words of kindness that seemed to bring Lily a small sense of peace. Rebecca had never told Ethan how much that meant to her.

🎵 "But this is the price we pay for a life of high class..." 🎵

As the song reached its middle, the crowd began to notice. The shift wasn't immediate; it was gradual. The energy of the place seemed to recede, the realization washing over them like a slow tide. People began to sway, their movements smaller, more deliberate. The weight of the song—its sorrowful, poignant truths—began to settle on them.

🎵 "It's too cold outside for angels to fly..." 🎵

Ethan's voice broke slightly on the word "angels," the rawness bleeding through. By now, the arena was nearly silent, the crowd completely captivated.

Ethan stood on the stage, his heart heavy. His thoughts drifted back to Rebecca. He'd had no idea she was carrying such a burden. She had always seemed unshakable, strong, and composed. Yet, as he sang, he realized how much she had been suffering—and how deeply this song mirrored her pain he hoped this song would give her solace a little.

🎵 "An angel will die, covered in white..." 🎵

The lyrics dug into him like claws, his voice trembling as he sang. He closed his eyes, letting the weight of it all pour out. When he opened them, a single tear escaped, sliding down his cheek unnoticed.

The arena was still. The massive space that had been roaring just minutes before now felt intimate, as though everyone was holding their breath. Ethan walked closer to the edge of the stage, lowering the mic slightly, allowing the audience to fully absorb the gravity of the song.

By the time the final notes faded into silence, Ethan took a step back. The world seemed to pause. For a moment, nothing happened—just the quiet hum of a stunned crowd. Then, a lone clap echoed from somewhere in the VIP section. It was followed by another, and another, until the entire stadium erupted into applause.

Ethan took a deep breath, wiping his face as he scanned the crowd. His gaze drifted toward the VIP section, where he saw a girl standing beside Tom Holland. She stood out, mesmerizing in a way that made his chest tighten unexpectedly.

For a moment, Ethan's emotions—already heightened from the song—seemed to shift. He locked eyes with her, his heart skipping a beat.

And just like that, the lights dimmed again, signaling the next moment to come.

lyrics below(play it as you listen to it)

White lips, pale face

Breathing in snowflakes

Burnt lungs, sour taste

Light's gone, day's end

Struggling to pay rent

Long nights, strange men

And they say, she's in the Class A Team

Stuck in her daydream

Been this way since eighteen but lately her face seems

Slowly sinking, wasting

Crumbling like pastries, and they scream

The worst things in life come free to us

'Cause we're just under the upper hand

And go mad for a couple grams

And she don't want to go outside tonight

And in a pipe, she flies to the Motherland

Or sells love to another man

It's too cold outside for angels to fly, angels to fly

Ripped gloves, raincoat

Tried to swim and stay afloat

Dry house, wet clothes

Loose change, bank notes

Weary-eyed, dry throat

Call girl, no phone

And they say, she's in the Class A Team

Stuck in her daydream

Been this way since eighteen, but lately her face seems

Slowly sinking, wasting

Crumbling like pastries, and they scream

The worst things in life come free to us

'Cause we're just under the upper hand

And go mad for a couple grams

And she don't want to go outside tonight

And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland

Or sells love to another man

It's too cold outside for angels to fly

An angel will die

Covered in white

Closed eye, and hoping for a better life

This time, we'll fade out tonight

Straight down the line (oh)

And they say, she's in the Class A Team

Stuck in her daydream

Been this way since eighteen, but lately her face seems

Slowly sinking, wasting

Crumbling like pastries, they scream

The worst things in life come free to us

And we're (oh) all under the upper hand

(Oh) go mad for a couple grams

(Oh) and we don't want to go outside (oh) tonight

And in a (oh) pipe we fly to the Motherland

(Oh) or sell love to another man

(Oh) it's too cold outside (oh) for angels to fly (oh, oh), angels to fly (oh)

To fly (oh), fly

For angels to fly (oh), to fly, to fly (oh)

For angels to die