The earth was created for man to work. Every meal put in his belly is strove for. From hunting game, to toiling soil, to working machines to corporate montonous lives. Man lives in a cycle - working to buy a beautiful house and a nice car, so you have a house to leave and a car you drive to work. And work they shall till their on their rocking chair.
So at least once in a while, man indulges himself, invests in other humans to provide them from a break from the everyday hustle and bustle. Something to laugh, entrance and amaze them. And so for centuries, there are those gifted, trained and skilled in the arts of fulfilling others' fantasies. So much so that it has risen become an indelible industry. An empire even, or even more than that. For those who climb its ladder, control the world. Forget royal or political status, the power from this height is reciprocal, as its derived from the ability to influence and persuade followers, the fans.
It has always been about the fans. What the fans want. What they want to hear. What they want to see. What they want to believe.
Ah, idols. What could be better than humans whom can become whatever your eyes desire. They started small, niche. Like something everyone wanted but were scared to accept. Today, they are. But heavy is the crown.
Behind the glitz and glamour, the stage lights and costumes, the confetti and finger hearts, lies the darkness. The sorrow, the pain, the cost of demand for perfection from imperfect beings.
Parts that're less than perfect must never be seen.
" What if... We do it for them?"
"The fans?"
"No. Those who have been abandoned behind the curtains. Not what the fans want. But what humans need."
Yazir