Post by Zero Sport on Jan 9, 2007 0:13:14 GMT -5
-A month before death-
The crowds of people slowly flooded out onto the bleachers and ground seats, staring out quietly at the stage, it was that night, a night that was supposed to create more and more possibilities for this young hopeful singer to have. In Tokyo, the name "Gackt" was what most fan girls and boys screamed at during concerts, because Gackt was an idol among most idols of Japanese Pop and Rock. With his sexuality being one of the key attractions to most women, and his voice laying second choice of the matter, he was also the perfect person to be stalked.
Gackt was raised in a family where he trained himself to do better, and here he is now, singing in front of rows and rows of fans. These fans adored him and would do anything to sate his hunger for stardom.
Gackt was thrilled as usual, the high he received from some small snorts of white dust made his nervousness completely disappear, his body serged with energy after his wonderful experience to get his personal high. This life was secret, no one knew of his obsession with drugs, nor did anyone care, just as long as he made them money in some sort of way, shape or form, they couldn't care if Gackt was suicidal, just as long as he gave them the money that made them stay there.
Gackt wasn't lonely, he couldn't really care less about the status of what he was or who he was, because as long as he got what he wanted: a woman or man on some nights, or his special dust on others, he didn't care as well.
He was preparing himself for one of his biggest performances, with this performance he could make millions of dollars with just singing songs that promoted several things that most people in the crowd were interested in. The crowd was screaming and with the white powder now circulating through Gackt's system, he couldn't care less, to them he was now god. He stood up, slightly dizzy from his obsession, his tight clothing almost cutting circulation off of most parts of his body, but it was what those fans wanted to see. Underneath his white trench coat with the giant white fur rim was the tight slick leather clothing and the chain mail shirt that only came to his stomach and cut off. His hair was a different color then it's normal color, which was blond. His hair was red with black high lights and he was wearing mascara and eye liner, this was his clothing that made him stand out to the crowds.
Of course it was just a rouse, it was there to make them see his effeminate side, but it was clothing to him, nothing more. This is one of the many concerts that I've done, and now I've grown accustomed to this life. He thought, of course, he wasn't complaining, he was a powerful figure in Japan, just because of his differences.
Now, Gackt was ready for his crowds, he walked passed the several security guards, he nodded at a man named Kogima, one of the many managers, Kogima was one of Gackt's largest fans, but it was secret until Kogima and Gackt became involved just once, but it was in the past, a past not meant for this moment in time. As Kogima received the signal, he nodded to several other people, Kogima was heard in the background screaming to the directors of the set as Gackt walked onto the 'stage ready' platform, this was the platform where all last minute checks were made, and of course, this is where they gave all the signals for the show to start.
The music played, the soft violin, the light bass and the strong electric beat came against Gackt's ears, this song was repeated over and over, almost sickening as to how many times Gackt heard this song. He put the plug against his ears, listening to the music within' the ear piece, this was a tempoed piece of music and Gackt listened with intent to where he began.
The platform rose, and there Gackt was, singing the songs that made him who he was, and also, it was now his turn to release his frustrations onto everyone, his voice released his anger.
It was now his moment to be free.
The crowds of people slowly flooded out onto the bleachers and ground seats, staring out quietly at the stage, it was that night, a night that was supposed to create more and more possibilities for this young hopeful singer to have. In Tokyo, the name "Gackt" was what most fan girls and boys screamed at during concerts, because Gackt was an idol among most idols of Japanese Pop and Rock. With his sexuality being one of the key attractions to most women, and his voice laying second choice of the matter, he was also the perfect person to be stalked.
Gackt was raised in a family where he trained himself to do better, and here he is now, singing in front of rows and rows of fans. These fans adored him and would do anything to sate his hunger for stardom.
Gackt was thrilled as usual, the high he received from some small snorts of white dust made his nervousness completely disappear, his body serged with energy after his wonderful experience to get his personal high. This life was secret, no one knew of his obsession with drugs, nor did anyone care, just as long as he made them money in some sort of way, shape or form, they couldn't care if Gackt was suicidal, just as long as he gave them the money that made them stay there.
Gackt wasn't lonely, he couldn't really care less about the status of what he was or who he was, because as long as he got what he wanted: a woman or man on some nights, or his special dust on others, he didn't care as well.
He was preparing himself for one of his biggest performances, with this performance he could make millions of dollars with just singing songs that promoted several things that most people in the crowd were interested in. The crowd was screaming and with the white powder now circulating through Gackt's system, he couldn't care less, to them he was now god. He stood up, slightly dizzy from his obsession, his tight clothing almost cutting circulation off of most parts of his body, but it was what those fans wanted to see. Underneath his white trench coat with the giant white fur rim was the tight slick leather clothing and the chain mail shirt that only came to his stomach and cut off. His hair was a different color then it's normal color, which was blond. His hair was red with black high lights and he was wearing mascara and eye liner, this was his clothing that made him stand out to the crowds.
Of course it was just a rouse, it was there to make them see his effeminate side, but it was clothing to him, nothing more. This is one of the many concerts that I've done, and now I've grown accustomed to this life. He thought, of course, he wasn't complaining, he was a powerful figure in Japan, just because of his differences.
Now, Gackt was ready for his crowds, he walked passed the several security guards, he nodded at a man named Kogima, one of the many managers, Kogima was one of Gackt's largest fans, but it was secret until Kogima and Gackt became involved just once, but it was in the past, a past not meant for this moment in time. As Kogima received the signal, he nodded to several other people, Kogima was heard in the background screaming to the directors of the set as Gackt walked onto the 'stage ready' platform, this was the platform where all last minute checks were made, and of course, this is where they gave all the signals for the show to start.
The music played, the soft violin, the light bass and the strong electric beat came against Gackt's ears, this song was repeated over and over, almost sickening as to how many times Gackt heard this song. He put the plug against his ears, listening to the music within' the ear piece, this was a tempoed piece of music and Gackt listened with intent to where he began.
The platform rose, and there Gackt was, singing the songs that made him who he was, and also, it was now his turn to release his frustrations onto everyone, his voice released his anger.
It was now his moment to be free.