The Voice of the Nightingale

It was a typical autumn evening, and the clock had just struck 5:30 PM on November 19th. The crowd had just watched the performance of a famous singer, and they were still screaming his name as he left the stage, bowing slightly in appreciation. He was a favorite among many, and people had been looking forward to his performance for weeks.

As he walked through the endless corridor, he passed by many famous celebrities who had already performed or were planning to perform that day. He didn't stop to chat with them, simply walking forward with his own thoughts.

"Hello!" a singer greeted him with a smile, extending his hand for a shake. The famous singer wanted to return the greeting, but he got a stern look from his manager, who ordered him to keep walking.

Ignoring the gesture, he continued down the corridor until he reached the room reserved for him by his manager. As he entered the room, he let out a yawn, exhausted from the performance. He stretched his back and closed his eyes, ready to drift off to sleep.

But his moment of peace was short-lived as he heard his manager's sharp voice, pulling him back to reality.

"We're good to go," his manager said.

The famous singer groaned quietly, not wanting to leave just yet. "Can't I stay until tonight to watch others perform?" he asked. "I also want to give some autographs and take some photos with my fans, like others do. At least for once..."

"No such things allowed!" his manager snapped, digging her nails into his skin as she pulled him towards the car.

He stumbled, still half-asleep and exhausted from the performance. He could feel the pain in his skin from his manager's tight grip, but he couldn't muster up the energy to fight back. All he wanted to do was rest, but it seemed like his manager had other plans for him.

As he was dragged towards the car, he couldn't help but feel a sense of suffering. He had been in the music industry for years, and while he loved performing, the constant pressure and demands from his manager were taking a toll on him. He felt like he had no control over his own life, and he was constantly being pushed to do things he didn't want to do.

The car ride was silent, and the famous singer closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain in his skin and the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders. He felt like he was suffocating, like he was trapped in a never-ending cycle of performances and demands.

But as they drove away from the venue, he knew that he couldn't give up. He had to keep pushing, keep performing, and keep fighting for his own happiness. Even if it meant enduring more suffering along the way.

They soon reached the hotel. His manager immediately got out of the car, rushing to get into the building. That left him and the driver all alone in the limo.

"Your performance was amazing, the best experience I've had this year, thank you." The man turned around to face the singer with a wide smile and joy in his eyes.

"...it was my pleasure. Thank you, I was more happy to do th-" His words were cut off by another click of the door, this time, the door on his side.

"GOODBYE-" Manager dragged him out of it into the rain, pushing him forward to get to the hotel as soon as possible.

Driver's smile faded away, looking at the two with a sign of sadness. They were having a conversation, why is that woman so protective over him?

The rain was getting heavier by the minute, and the singer was already wet from head to toe. He couldn't even think of how many times he had to face such a situation, but he knew it wasn't something he was going to get used to anytime soon. His manager was rushing him, not even letting him take a breath, let alone enjoy the moment of performing. He couldn't help but feel a thick sense of suffocation, not just from the manager's grip on his arm but from the whole situation.