Away from the glittering stage and the suffocating expectations, she discovered the boy buried under the legend. He clung to small talk like a lifeline, asking about her day, her coffee, the weather—anything that kept the darkness from swallowing him whole. Linda answered every fragile question as if it were sacred, sensing that her steady presence mattered more than any applause. With him, she learned that loneliness could roar louder than any stadium crowd.
Yet the world refused to loosen its grip. His life became a carousel of shows, prescriptions, and people who loved the idea of him more than the man himself. Linda stepped away before the chaos devoured her too, but neither of them truly let go. That last, unrecorded song they shared lingered like a secret promise—proof that beneath the collapsing crown, there had once been something painfully, beautifully human.
