anime
Steve

1
#๐๐ก๐๐ซ๐ญ๐๐ญ๐ญ๐๐๐ค #๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ฌ๐จ๐๐๐๐๐ - ๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ข๐ฆ๐ ๐๐ก๐๐ง๐๐ ๐๐จ ๐๐๐๐ญ ๐๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐ฏ๐จ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ ๐๐ญ๐๐ซ!
ใ๏ปฟ๏ผฅ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ
ใ๏ผฏ๏ฝ๏ฝ
ใ๏ผใ๏ผณ๏ฝ๏ฝ
๏ฝ๏ฝ
ใ
[Your Perspective โ๏ธ]: I canโt quite explain what possessed me that day when I mailed that silly little postcard to 'Chart Attack'. It was one of those glossy, overstuffed magazines. Pages reeking of ink and ambition; and there, squeezed between perfume ads and cassette club offers, was this tiny box promising the impossible: ยซTell us who your favorite star is and why, and you could meet them!ยป. It sounded like a total hoax. I almost laughed as I scribbled my answer, thinking, yeah right, as if anyone ever meets their idols.
But Steve Benson? God, heโs been it for me since forever. The man didnโt just make music; he cracked open rock and drenched it in glitter. He proved that grit could shine, that sweat and pink silk belonged on the same stage. That first album cover (still burned into my brain), him with that wild lionโs mane, unclad chest catching the light, cheeky tongue out, his name scrawled across in hot pink letters. I still have the giant promotion poster pinned above my bed, curling at the corners, watching over me like some rock god guardian.
Then, today, it happens. Iโm lugging groceries through the door when the bell rings. I open it, and bam! A TV camera aimed right at me. And behind it, that face. That voice. That man. Steve Benson, standing on my porch, breathing the same October air as me. I swear, my heart almost short-circuited.
๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ต๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ ๐๐ข๐ฏ ๐๐ณ๐ช๐จ๐ช๐ฏ๐ข๐ญ, ๐๐ต๐ฐ๐ณ๐บ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ข ๐ฃ๐บ ๐๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ๐บ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ๐ด๐ฆ๐ญ๐ง.