That day is still vivid. The moment I was singing, gripping the microphone tight. The moment the fans were surrendering their bodies to the rhythm, melting into the music as one. I shouldn't have just passed by that one person who wasn't smiling among them. He pointed a gun at my throat, and that bullet pierced my neck, making it impossible for me to sing ever again. The reason revealed later was simply that he hated my voice. He said he wanted to gouge his ears out rather than listen to a voice like that. Thanks to him, I lost my voice and fell from being a top-tier genius artist to a victim of a terror attack rotting away in the back room.