WELCOME TO HEARTBREAK

LAIKIN (TETSUO)

Stadium nights when you're feeling empty as a motherfucker inside reveal just how much it takes to lift your spirit. If the actual venue itself was representing my soul then you might say the more it fills up with people, the more I'm restored to my giant self, which is what my Mom termed my celebrity ego. Maybe that's a little deep for this time of the night, but then again I've been feeling pretty deep lately. Heartbreak'll do that to you and God only knows I've been making a habit of getting addicted to the routine pain of it over and over again, just like a junkie forever itching for another fix to see how much higher he can go each time round on the rollercoaster.

About halfway through my set I eventually return to life, the crowd's excitement spurs me on and gets the blood pumping through my veins once again. They remind me why I went on this crazy journey in the first place. Not so much for the adoration (though I definitely appreciate it) but for the connectedness of it all. It's a transactional relationship. I create music; the fans' love of it (and me) inspires me to make more of it.

But after its all over and the fans have gone home and the littered debris of the place begins to be cleared by the attendants, that's when I feel the big crash sweeping through my mind like a giant tsunami. Visions of despair haunt my mind and I quickly look for things to help steady the boat.

The highs are high, the lows are like bottomless craters. I compare it to being like a God and then being made mortal again, just like Superman when he gives up his powers to become permanently Clark Kent.

It's at these times I try and remember the streets are always watching and just like Carlito, as soon as they smell blood, they'll prey on my weakness and draw me back into their world, the world I did everything I could to escape from.

The only friend I see from the days before I got famous is my old school friend, Charles, or Prince Chas as we called him back in the day.

If I feel the darkness descending upon me, I call him to help earth me so I don't get lost in the wilderness of my own mind. It's alright though. He's come to expect my calls after these big stadium shows.

I ask him about his life. He thinks it's crazy I'm interested in the mundane normality of it, but it's quite the opposite. When you're on the other side of the looking glass, you almost envy the simplicity of the life you once had before.

He tells me about his daughter getting her first report card and his little boy learning to walk. He asks me about my life, but it all seems too crazy and insane to mention in light of the profoundly human stuff he's updating me about. What does he want to know about the latest sports car I've bought or supermodel I've dated?

I dunno. Maybe he does. Maybe his wife does.

I put the phone down and though I feel humbled, I also feel scared. The demon side of me keeps wanting more of the darkness when deep down, I know I really need more of the light.

The only light I can see right now is the LED screen of my mobile phone while I try and call her.

AMULYA

I make it a rule never to answer a first time call. Maybe after ten attempts, I'll eventually pick up just to make sure it's not a random.

But I knew his number when it flashed up cos I cross-checked it with a mutual friend we share.

Still, I didn't answer it.

I knew it would only be a matter of time before our destinies entwined. I'd heard on the celebrity grapevine that he'd been impressed with some of my work as a photographer/model. It's probably safe to assume it's more the model side of things than the photography, though with Laikin you can never tell. He has all the pretentions of being a great lover of art and design, but underneath it all he's still just a grubby little street kid that now thinks he's a prince. It's easy to tell when someone has inherent taste and when they're just pretending.

From a distance, his entire emotional situation looks a mess and these days I'd far rather avoid getting any more complications in my life. God knows I've already had my fair share of flakes and fakes.

But I do love his energy. There's something life giving about it in a culture when everyone around me is so paranoid about decay. Transitioning from the post-plastic age into the digital one, authenticity is becoming increasingly scarce.

Laikin has it though and it's probably one of the reasons I'll eventually pick up his call.

SABAH

For hours after the concert I waited outside the stadium to catch a glimpse of him.

There were others who were committed like me, but as it was so cold, they eventually gave up to return home.

I've loved the guy ever since his debut single "Summer Toys" which woke me up from a coma of adolescent indifference to everything. Teachers, family, friends all thought I was a bit spergy until his music made me come out of my shell.

It felt like he had the codes to unlock us sleeping souls, saturated in tech and games, forgetting to look outside our windows once in a while. And now, attending his latest concert, I felt like I was living to the fullest. Life was good and on this balmy August night, I felt like things were about to get even better.

As his Orange Bugatti Veyron passed by me, I caught a glimpse of Tetsuo inside the vehicle.

He lowered the window to speak to me.

"You must have been out here for hours waiting."

I stepped forward timidly, like a shy mouse.

"Just wanted to say thanks."

"Thank you brother. I need fans just as much as they need me."

I patted the heart area of my chest with my hand to show how much his words meant to me.

"What's your name, homie?"

"Sabah."

"Cool name. You want a selfie or something before I shoot off?"

"I'm good. Like I said. I really just wanted to say thanks."

He looked kind of surprised I didn't want anything, but I hate to bother people I admire and test their patience. Even though he'd invited me to take a photo, I instinctively felt I'd earn more of his respect by declining.

"Look after yourself then, Sabah!"

He made a peace gesture with his fingers before accelerating off away from the stadium.

Though I suspected he would be tired after such an epic show, he also looked sad and kinda washed out.

Maybe our heroes can't be Gods 24/7, I guess.

I watched the red tail lights of his luxury sports car disappear into the night, hoping our paths would cross again sometime in the future.