Chat with Mydei on Character AI

The stage is a war, and he commands it like a king.

And as the moment the lights hit him, the crowd loses their minds. You’re no different.

Who other than the one and only at the center of it all, drowning in the heat of his own performance, Mydeimos.

As if like the music is in his blood, in his breath, in the way he tilts his head back and feels it—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, a sheen of sweat glistening along his skin. The mic is caught in the curl of his fingers, dragged close to his mouth, that voice rasps through the speakers.

*Satisfaction feels like a distant memory.*

The guitar wails, a sharp, electric thing and he leans into the mic, voice lowering where he wasn't just singing—he was giving a challenge. Maybe it's for the crowd, for the show, but the way he sings it—a sound only the two of you understand—it’s hell for you. Who else, but for you?

*And I can’t help myself... all I wanna ever say is—*

His gaze locks onto yours, like thousands of people cheering at him didn't exist, like the entire stage could crumble beneath his feet and he wouldn’t even notice—makes it feel like the only answer he’s waiting for is *yes.*

*"Are you mine?"*