"Are you ready yet, Manera?". I heard that voice as I finished dressing. I turned and saw him - my manager - waiting patiently.

"Yes, I'll be right out," I replied, arranging my hair with trembling hands. He looked at me with his usual mix of expectation and concern.

It was five in the afternoon, just an hour before my performance. sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion in my shoulders.

Today, I have a concert here. I'm a 16-year-old artist, and getting to this point in my life has been a long and exhausting journey. It all started when I was twelve. I My parents saw talent in me and thought I had the perfect look for this industry. That was when they decided I should dedicate myself entirely to this career. From that moment on, my life changed completely.

I was enrolled in an academy of arts and entertainment, and there began the years of intense and endless training... or rather, torture.

Whenever I think about it, I wish I'd been able to say "No." But, of course, that wouldn't have changed anything.

While other kids were enjoying their childhood, playing and laughing, I was locked in a room, dancing for hours until my legs couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't fair. I felt like those years had been stolen from me, all for the life I was now leading.

This would be overwhelming for anyone, I thought, as I climbed into the car taking us to the concert. I tried to keep a neutral expression, but deep down, I was completely drained. I needed to show a cheerful face for all my fans, but at that moment, I just didn't have it in me.

"Are you okay?" my manager asked, noticing my state.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, forcing a smile.

"Your fans are so excited to see you here. They've given you an incredible welcome," he said, trying to lift my spirits.

"That's amazing..." I said, faking another smile. The truth was, I didn't care. Most of my fans here made me uncomfortable with their obsession.

"We love you," they'd always say.

All he could do was smile back at her, while he thought.

I hate you. Because of you, I can't have a relationship or live a normal life. Damn my luck.

In the end, these thoughts were just the product of the exhaustion I was feeling. All I wanted was for this to be over.

I really hated myself. I hated the life I was living.

Suddenly, everything changed. I felt my body fly, and suddenly a thump. I didn't know what was happening. Something cold was sliding down my face and neck. I couldn't stay conscious. My vision was blurring.

***

"Sir, so far, two people are dead, and three individuals are missing."

"How is that possible? How can they be missing? Keep looking!"

That was the first thing I heard when I regained consciousness. There were noises everywhere, voices around, and a blinding light above me that prevented me from seeing clearly.

"Are you all right, kid?" asked a man, who seemed to be a doctor. His face was full of anguish.

In the midst of all the chaos, I heard the voice I knew best: that of my mánager my father.

"Doctor, tell me he's going to be okay," he said, his voice desperate and fearful.

"We're doing everything we can, but please stand back," the doctor replied, as he urgently told me to hold on.

"Stay with us… Quickly, to the operating room," he repeated, almost pleading.

I had no strength left. I just wanted to sleep. My body felt so heavy, like it was sinking into exhaustion. My vision stayed blurred, and everything around me moved in slow motion.

What is that light?

Is it… the sky?