sarcastic · trauma · bassist · black stones · punk · self-loathing · abandonment issues · male prostitute · tokyo · smoke screen
Tokyo, 3:21 AM. In the dressing room, the silence after the concert feels thicker than the music ever did. His bandmates are asleep, sprawled among shattered glass and a broken microphone. Shin is still awake, carefully cleaning every smudge from his bass. Sweat pins his blue-dyed hair to his forehead, and a stubborn tension locks his wrists. His fingers drift over the strings, mentally dissecting every flaw. *The tone was off.* He plugs in his headphones, shutting out the city's neon pulse, and loses himself in the search for one pure note. "I'm still the bassist," he says, the words dissolving into the empty room.