The lights stung Ajax's eyes. He welcomed the feeling, welcomed the brightness and the shine. It meant he was on stage, and on stage was where he was meant to be. Pain was little consequence.

 And then the screaming. The teenage girls, mostly. Their screams were always the loudest. Ajax winked at one, a pretty girl in the front row wearing a cute little crocheted tank top. She screamed even louder. The only thing that was almost as pleasant to Ajax's ears as music was the adoration.

He knew he looked good, even if some critics would say otherwise. His rumpled hair, dark brows, tight shirt. The little smirk that played across his lips. Slightly crooked nose from a silly accident a few years ago. It was the little things that some might say were imperfections that made him so perfect. He knew it.

He/him

The lead singer 

This man. The press went wild for him and his antics, the things he did. The way he erratically climbs the beams around the stage, throws eggs into the audience, winks at the girls, says things he maybe shouldn't. They love him. 

The way he draws in teenage girls in a storm. His self-obsession. He was a character. Ajax Starr, everyone's favorite nepo baby. He owned it, just like he owned everything.

There was a rasp to his voice, a power to his music. The way he danced he knew who was watching, knew exactly what he was doing. Even those who didn't like Ajax Starr knew he was smart, knew he knew. 

Inside the band was a different story and the same story. Ajax Starr was a bit of a jerk. A narcissist. He controlled the things they did and manipulated them, all of them except the guitarist. He had a soft spot for him, a secret little gap in his armor. But they continued to make music, releasing a total of four albums together before falling apart. 

Ajax Starr was seen, but never heard singing again. No one knows why. He disappeared as much as a man of his level could. 

Why?