''Entertainer''

''names'' main character:

artist

friends of the main:

J and the other T.

producers:
RAP and the other
PRODUCER only.
 Summary:

the truth is most people are easy.

not easy to play, not easy to manipulate, but easy to brand,

easy to lay on the surfaces of their memory a pretty face of
a pretty boy with pretty eyes and a smile.

(or, Artist is new to the music scene and Rap has everything
he wants)
 first chapter
''they say personhood isn’t a singular experience.
indeed, sometimes it feels like something less than that''.

''you can’t bury me. you can’t bury me beneath scum or dirt or filth
or stones. i’ve been buried alive since i was born. my hands have
always been this dirty. it’s you who’s being buried. you’ll see.''

''it’s just hair. it’s just cells that are already dead being cut. it’s
just letting go of something that’s already lifeless.''

''Artist never dyed his hair before. he’s always been afraid it’d make him look too
different. his image of himself is so cemented in his mind that imagining himself
with different colored hair challenges his vision of himself, his very reflection.''
 second chapter
''it’s suddenly hot all over, inside and out.
a terrible sensation just below his skin hums to life like an infection. he feels it crawl from his
fingers and up his veins steadily, the burning leaving an ashy residue in his thoughts.''

''because there is a thrill in letting go, a particular delight in shining lights upon your insides
and letting the audience gasp in horror at the grotesque mutilations.''

"you don’t want me to be honest, honesty’s never gotten him anywhere. you just want me
to be good."

''when is a body not a body?

when it’s up on a pedestal.
when it’s pinned to a wall and all you can do is stare.''
 third chapter
''self expression's a tip of the tongue phenomenon, and most people struggle with simply
getting the first words out, better yet the right ones.''

''music is anonymous, in a way.

you can’t control who listens to it, who learns from it, who draws inspiration from it.
making music to help other people, writing stories or creating art, you don’t really have control over
what exactly that help entails.''

''life imitates art, music, literature.''

''honesty is a commodity for those who wouldn’t be cut down if they spoke in only truths''.

''synths and piano played in d major.

because he’s the happiest he’s ever been in his life.
he’s the happiest.''
 he’s wearing a black long sleeve graphic shirt
he’s dressed in monochrome, like an
tucked into a black skirt with a belt that’s sewn
old silent movie. black boots with
onto the hem and then a strap looping around
black dress pants, a black jacket, a
the left side.
black cropped shirt and the same
black plain rings adorn his index and middle
silver chain around his waist.
fingers, and a silver chain connects his double
fingerless gloves cover his hands, too.
helix to his tragus piercing.

the younger’s wearing a two
buttoned black and blue flannel,
a fake silver nose ring, and
golden highlighter on his
collarbones and chest.
he’s dressed in all black, like
the night he met Rap.
black fishnet beneath a half
tied robe and white pearl
detailing. a floral design
decorates the corner of his
Artist wearing a white
corset around his waist,
ribbons binding the
sleeves of his shirt
together.

he’s wearing a red silk dress—

eyes and he has a silver
piercing in his bottom lip. clothes
accessories