A oneshot i'm sorry to say, but then again i may occassionally add chapters to this when i'm not so busy ^^ Saa, thank go for the plane journey i'll be taking next week...so much time to write yay!!! It's a bit of a different style for me, keeping with te same discriptive writing i've been using lately. I hope you like it even if it is a bit odd. This chapters Fuji centric, but it will -when i manage to update- turn into TeFu.
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way shape or form, own the PoT charcaters...not even their plushies Q_Q Nooo I want a Fuji plushie!!
Imagine, the pulsing fast rated thrill, drawing through your veins and lungs, each breathe deeper, each note held longer, sung stronger than the last with growing confidence, singing till the crowds noise filled your ears until your voice reached its peak with a crescendo unmatched by any other vocalist. It's the ultimate rapture coursing blindly through your system, elating you beyond belief; each melody brighter and darker, faster and slower than the next. Every single breath in supporting the highest notes, holding you up, keeping you firm as you belt out that final line, the very edge of euphoria as your curtain call comes, and suddenly it stops.
You can't breathe, the next thing you register is the floor coming closer and faster than before, the heat of the spotlights and the people around you, the pain arching it's way through your chest and throat, pure agony in each desperate breath for oxygen, the world spinning and falling around you, growing darker as a hushed silence echoes loudly along the vast mass of spectators, and dedicated listeners.
Every thing has stop, the music is cut, the lights dimmed and the stage dowsed in pitch black, a stretcher, people carrying you, the feeling of floating wretchedly as your carried out, barely conscious and fading fast. The fear and panic of not knowing what was wrong, what had happened, why it hurt so much!
You're blacking out, the voices around you blending into one flat dull tone, your own grasping hands at your throat, clasping, gasping for a breath that doesn't bring hot agony with each small hyperventilation, the many breaths not reaching your lungs at all until it burned, it sting, it turned to ice. Nothing was right, your head pounding, splitting in two from lack of air, tasting blood, feeling every ounce of adrenaline flooding faster than a monsoons broken river bank, faster and faster until your senses are no longer sense, but incoherent, incorrigible pieces of nonsense; panic, feeling lower than being dropped into an endless pit, your nerves feeling as though you had been pushed from a twenty story building. Why can't you think straight!?
Your eyes close, those dead voices saying thing you just don't understand, a sharp scratch along the inside of your arm, the odd, surreal sensation of something moving through your system, calming you ever so slightly. The tight feeling of something around your head, over your mouth, oxygen needed so dearly being pushed into your lungs carefully and steadily until finally, at the very brink, you black out, chest rising and falling with so much effort to keep breathing, slowing until they even out into a normal rhythm.
That day, the world went blank for Fuji Syuusuke, a lost voice, a prodigy among the many known singers.
In this business, even the smallest thing can shatter a career, can end a legacy and create a legend.
At twelve forty seven, the vocalist of the century, Fuji Syuusuke, was last night hospitalised after passing out on stage during the final performance of his twelve day music tour. One spectator, one off Fuji-san's many adoring fans, claimed to see him clutching at his throat before dropping to his knees.
The cause of the prodigy's health problems has yet to be confirmed, but according to hospital staff he is in a stable condition, and they are doing the best they can to find the cause of our idols distress.
The question remains; what will happen to the ever smiling singer who stole our hearts that June two years ago, and what of his future in the music industry?