AxlTwo years laterHe closed the flap of the piano slowly, his fingers lingering against the polished wood for just a second longer than necessary before he finally pushed himself to his feet. The roar of the crowd crashed over him in waves. It wasn’t just noise—it was vibration, pressure, something alive. It pulsed in his chest like a second heartbeat, like oxygen flooding his lungs. The stage lights still flashed in blinding bursts of white and gold as they made their way offstage, the heat from them clinging to his skin.Sweat trickled down his spine beneath his shirt. His muscles felt heavy, loose from exertion, the adrenaline still humming in his veins even though the final chord had already faded. He was exhausted—bone-deep exhausted. Europe had been madness. City after city. Flights, buses, interviews, rehearsals. The schedule had been relentless, unforgiving. But when the crowd screamed like that, when thousands of voices sang their lyrics back to him, it made the fatigue alm
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