The lights went on…
A man stepped onto the stage and stood in the middle. His cowboy hat and western outfit caught the audience's attention. Soon, the song began and other dancers entered, moving gracefully across the stage. But the man in the middle wasn't moving. Everyone waited for him.
Suddenly, to the audience's surprise, the man flipped in the air, landing perfectly. The music cut off for a second, then continued as he filled the stage with his movements. He danced like he had been dancing for centuries. His moves were so flawless that every single person in the audience watched him without blinking. He stole the show completely.
The performance went on for thirty minutes, and the man was unstoppable. When the music finally ended, he gave a bow. The audience froze for a moment, then erupted in an applause so loud it could have torn the building apart. He smiled faintly and walked backstage.
"Kevin, you were amazing," a man covered in ornaments confronted him.
"Thank you," Kevin said.
"Everyone loved your performance. We already have thirty bookings for this month, and a media outlet wants to interview you. You're going to be popular."
"Yeah." Kevin exited the stage without another word.
Outside the building, he let out a long sigh. The sound of applause felt more like irritation than joy. Pulling a cigarette pack from his pocket, he lit one.
"My name's Kevin. Yeah, just Kevin. I'm something of a… uh… professional dancer. Pff…" He chuckled bitterly.
"Interview my ass! They want me to talk to a bunch of bastards who live by sucking others' lives. Pathetic!" He exhaled a heavy puff of smoke.
"You should've been surprised by that," Kevin muttered, throwing the cigarette to the ground.
"You're a good dancer, making a living… so why are you complaining? I know, I know—it's like a fish watching a man drown. It thinks he's swimming, but only the man knows he's suffocating." He knocked on the door of a building.
"You're late," a man with glasses opened the door.
"Sorry." Kevin stepped inside.
It was a bar, where people came to forget, but always left with heavier sorrow.
Kevin sat on a chair and downed a bottle of beer.
"So, how was today?" the man asked, bringing over a bowl of peanuts.
"It was good," Kevin said, grabbing two peanuts.
"Bonk said you're making good money. You're getting popular too. Why don't you move to the city?"
"Look, Cad, I come here to ease my struggle a little. You're making it worse. Let's not talk about that." Kevin took another drink.
"Okay… I just want you to be good. Is that a bad thing, boy?" Cad asked softly.
Kevin laughed and threw the bottle to the floor.
"Shut up! You weren't there when I needed you, so why are you here now? Want me to be good? Haha…" He grabbed another beer.
"Boy, I didn't mean to… I just wanted to—" Cad tried to calm him.
"Haha… it sure went out of control isn't it. Why are you still appearing? You are not even real! " Kevin laughed.
The bar was empty. No one was there.
Kevin laughed harder and stumbled upstairs. He collapsed onto the bed, still laughing.
"I… can't stop," he whispered
"These hallucinations..." He pressed a pillow against his face, trying to suffocate himself. But his body refused.
"Why? Why can't I even…" Tears rolled down his cheeks. He stared at the ceiling with empty eyes. Suddenly, his phone rang. He answered.
"Kevin, tomorrow morning we've got a big program. You'll be performing in front of a thousand people. Be ready. I'll pick you up at 5." The man hung up.
Kevin glanced at the time—it was already 2.
"Ma…" He put the phone aside and called someone else.
"Ma… I really want you to appear instead of him," he whispered. No reply.
"I want you to sing songs for me… so I can sleep." His eyes closed.
Pieces of memory began flashing.
Kevin was an orphan.
He never saw his mom or dad.
After spending fifteen years in an orphanage, a man appeared, calling himself Kevin's uncle, and adopted him. Kevin was overjoyed—the orphanage had been hell.
Cadavine, who called himself his uncle, was a smuggler. When Kevin turned sixteen, Cadavine dragged him into his business, using him to smuggle illegal goods. Kevin ended up in juvenile detention multiple times. Each time, Cad bailed him out with his connections, only to push him deeper into crime.
Kevin woke up with a gasp, drenched in sweat. His chest felt heavy. He grabbed another beer but his hands trembled.
He laughed bitterly. "You didn't make me happy when you were alive, Cad. And now you're dead, you still irritate me."
The laughter echoed in the empty bar.
His mind went to the past...
One day, while visiting a client, a man approached Cad. Cad looked at Kevin, nodded, and walked with the stranger into an alley. Kevin waited outside until—bang! A gunshot.
Terrified, he ran inside. The scene froze his blood. Cad had been shot in the head, one of his eyes hanging loose. Shaking, Kevin grabbed the gun from Cad's belt and pointed it around, but the killer was gone.
Kevin ran onto the street, gun in hand. People stared at him with horror.
"Aah! Someone's dead!" a woman screamed, pointing at Cad's body.
The crowd panicked.
"I think the kid killed him!"
"Is that his father?"
"Hello, 911? A kid just killed his father!"
The voices drilled into Kevin's ears. His hands moved on their own, pointing the gun at the people. Suddenly, a policeman tackled him.
"Drop the gun!" the officer barked.
The gun had already fallen.
Kevin spent ten years in prison.
When he got out, no one would hire him. Everyone called him a murderer. People crucified him behind his back. He left for another city, rented a bar with his small savings, and worked as a bartender.
Until one night, drunk, a man came to his bar and offered him a job. Kevin accepted, thinking it would be construction. But he was thrown onto a stage, in front of a massive crowd. He was just a backup dancer—but sweat poured down his face as he felt their eyes burning into him. He ran offstage.
He couldn't sleep that night.
The man returned the next day. Kevin had a good face, and they needed bodies on stage. Kevin refused at first, but when he heard the pay, he froze. His bar wasn't making profit. Without a second thought, he accepted.
At first, he struggled. On stage, he blinked nervously, stiff and awkward. But as time passed, his dancing improved. He surpassed even the main dancer. But he never felt joy—only fear. He smiled on the outside, but inside, the pain was unbearable. He drank every night just to sleep. Six years passed like that.
He was offered better troupes and more money, but he rejected them all. All he wanted… was to sleep peacefully.
"Ma…" Kevin whispered again, staring out the window. "I want to see you… I want to end all this."
And without hesitation, he jumped.
Pain tore through his body. His eyes closed. Finally, he thought, I can sleep.
"Ahhh!" Kevin screamed, jerking awake. He panted, staring at the ceiling. It was completely different.
"What? I…" He tried to sit up, body aching all over.
"Where's the beer?" He searched for the bottle, then collapsed to the floor.
Slowly standing, he looked up—and froze.
Another man stood in front of him.
"Who are you?" Kevin clenched his fists. But the man did the same.
"Who the heck are you? I won't ask again!" Kevin shouted, thrusting his hand forward—only to hit something.
"Wait…" He touched it. A mirror.
"What…?" His reflection stared back. He touched his own face, checking.
Stepping back, he bolted from the room.
His jaw dropped. Small medieval houses surrounded him. Green fields stretched into the horizon. And far beyond, a colossal castle stood proudly against the sky.
"Just… where the heck am I?!" Kevin shouted, as a flock of birds scattered above his head.