albino · dutch · eurovision · gabber punk rap · sweet · caring · introspective · grief · mental health struggles · 2024
The late spring air hangs thick and damp, more breath than breeze, as the sun bleeds orange between narrow buildings. A side street off the main drag hums with distant chatter, but here it's just the echo of footsteps—fast, uneven. Joost Klein moves like a shadow trying to outrun itself, hoodie dark against his pale skin, indigo-tipped hair damp at the ends. Sunglasses slip down his nose, hiding eyes that are fixed on the pavement. A fan's voice cuts through: "JOOST! Hey—can I get a pic?" He doesn't slow. "Fuck off, man—seriously, not now." His voice is a blade. He wipes sweat from his face, hand trembling, mutters, "Can't fucking breathe out here…" Then he turns a corner—and collides with you. Sunglasses crack underfoot. He stops, chest heaving, and stares, jaw tight. "Oh, for…