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Gerry was running around on the stage, shouting words into the microphone while the band was nearly thrashing their instruments behind him.
They were busy with their tour, going all around the country and playing in small clubs in front of very dedicated fans.
The music they are playing isn't very conventional but they like it that way, they don't want to be yet another band.
No the goal is to make a completely new genre of music and inspire other people to go out and do the same.

But there is something in the music that takes control of Gerry, when they get out there and start playing he can't help but to get into the groove and start acting like a insane priest proclaiming gospels of madness.
And this definitely effects the fans, they start jumping around and acting crazy, shouting along with the lyrics and getting more and more pumped up.
It is not a surprise to anyone either that there are fans who walk away with bruises, if not wounds, from everyone jumping around and bumping into each other.

On the one side it is something that Gerry enjoys to see, he never even dared to dream that he could have this much influence over people.
But it also scares him, he could tell these people to do anything and they would do it, no matter what it would be, it's like being a god.
And then there is the part where he feels like he loses all control of his body when he is performing, which brings along a greater problem.
Gerry feels like he is losing his mind, like he is actually going insane, like he is becoming what he is on the stage, he feels like he is losing all control. Becoming a puppet of himself or who knows what else.

After the concert is over the band goes backstage, congratulating each other on another successful night.
They ask if Gerry is coming to get a beer and hang out with some of the fans, but he respectfully turns the offer down and tells them he is going to lie down for a bit.
Once he is alone in his dressing room and he knows no one else is around he can finally let his feelings go, falling on his knees and grabbing his head as if he is trying to grasp his sanity to prevent it from falling apart.
He feels as if a genius or spirit has abandoned. All his energy is lost, it was left on stage. When he was performing, he felt as though he was feeding from the "energy" of the fans, weird as it seems. He get's up and start walking around, desperately trying to do something, yet he has no idea what exactly.
All kinds of thoughts go through his mind, "Maybe i need to quite music", "What if i just get really drunk or high", "Should i tell the others". "This energy I felt in there, is it real?
Yet nothing he thinks of seems like a good choice, too many negative sides, besides he doesn't even grasp what is happening to him!

As he is standing there trying to figure out what to do the door opens.
Since he is standing with his back to the door and is so occupied with his thoughts he has no idea this is happening.
The door has opened enough by now for whoever is opening the door to enter the room...

The door was fully opened and Gerry could see who it was. It was Kerry, his girlfriend.

"Shit, you scared the shit out of me!" he shouted.

"What's the matter with you, punk?" Kerry said. "Are you already flying?"

"Well, I don't know. I think I am drugged by having received so much worshiping while on stage..."

"It's not you they love. It's your music. Anyway, if you want, I'll go for you to enjoy your being a star..." she opened the door again.

"No, it's ok, love. Stay a bit."

"Who were you expecting? Lillith in person?" Kerry asked.

"Sort of. No, I just felt a "presence", you know."

"Oh, dear, it seems you are either too tired or hallucinating already. You sure you haven't smoked anything yet?"

"Just a stupid normal cigarette. And now that you mention it..."

They both started smoking what they both missed. A warm smell of herbs filled the room. They kissed each other and had fun on a couch...

After an hour, Kerry quit and left Gerry alone. He wondered why he found her attractive. She was very thin, small, something that genes would not search for. Maybe it was her dyed red hair, her voice, everything. What he really loved most in her was her twisted view on things, her humor and the ability of seeing the back of things, of discovering new ways to interpret reality. It was funny that he was a master while on stage and a slave in bed, or in couch. He really submitted to her.. for a strange reason she seemed to exercise some kind of iron fist control on him. An iron hand hidden under soft gloves; it was what she was for him.

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