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A New Path

It’s been a bumpy road, alright. Getting out of the university’s suffocating grip felt like escaping a particularly elaborate, academic prison. Management, bless their capitalist hearts, finally saw the potential in our "world tour, version 2.0."My partner in crime, JungKook, and I were off again, traversing continents and churning out ear-wormy melodies. But this tour… it felt different. The usual electric hum of our baddest Lady presence, usually a constant current beside me, was missing. Overwhelming need for cash to fund my burgeoning collection of vintage synthesizers kept my feet moving. The familiar adrenaline rush of performing to thousands, the echo of their cheers, was still addictive. Yet, I constantly found myself searching for her in the chaos, searching for that familiar smirk in the sea of faces.

This tour had its own peculiar flavour though. In Budapest, we jammed with a group of street musicians who, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a coven of mischievous sprites, their fiddles imbued with ancient, earth-shaking magic. Their music, a swirling vortex of Balkan rhythms and ethereal harmonies, felt profoundly otherworldly. They taught me a spell to summon inspiration – a pinch of paprika, a whisper of a forgotten tongue, and a fervent desire to create – that actually worked, sending bolts of melodic genius straight into my brain. Later, in Marrakech, we shared a tagine with a time traverler, her stories weaving through centuries and dimensions with dizzying ease. The vibrant chaos, the sheer unexpectedness of it all, felt like a constant, exhilarating game of cosmic chance. And right now, standing on this stage, with the roar of the crowd echoing in my ears, it feels absolutely perfect. The money is good, the music is incredible , just maybe, this is exactly where I'm supposed to be.