Prologue
In her room, surrounded by solitude, with the glow of the illuminated night outside dimmed by a curtain, she sat watching a special video.
The entire room was lit only by the light of her computer screen, shining incessantly.
She remained seated in her chair, slightly distanced from all those lights, her legs pressed together, and her long hair covering her face as she watched.
In that video, a performance was taking place—specifically, a musical performance.
On stage, the singer called out for the attention of her entire audience. Since it was an online broadcast, it was hard to distinguish the details, but it was widely known that this singer was not confined to a single niche—her voice was for everyone.
Whether singing, dancing, or jumping, she kept waving at her audience, encouraging them to make their voices heard—not just by those present, but by the entire world.
Yet, that request was a great contradiction. Amidst the melody, she called upon the crowd to join her, forming a harmonic chorus despite the many different voices blending together. To an outsider, it might have sounded chaotic, but for those who were there, it was a once-in-a-lifetime moment, a unity created through a single song.
The woman took pride in herself and her bandmates for achieving such influence and fame. Their recognition was not due to the voice of just one person but to the collective effort that had brought them this far.
For a band to stay together, the right individuals must be united. She saw them as more than just bandmates—she recognized them as her companions, her "musical brothers," as she called them.
As the music continued, the crowd erupted, chanting her stage name in unison as the rhythm intensified.
"Grande Lena!" "Grande Lena!" "Grande Lena!"
And still, she kept going—singing with everyone, jumping with everyone, drawing all the attention she could. The entire audience was caught up in her infectious energy.
Her legion of fans followed her lead, their voices merging into perfect synchronization, reaching a single tone. The chorus hit its peak in front of everyone...
"We won't stay silent in this concrete jungle!"
— Let's raise our voices...
— FOR THE WORLD TO HEAR US!
It was the kind of lyric that could stick in anyone's mind, lingering in the hearts of her fans even as the song came to an end.
The girl, merely a spectator, simply closed the video after the final note played. There was nothing left for her to watch.
She lay down on her slightly disheveled bed—until she felt something beneath her feet.
A mask. The very one she often wore for some reason.
Turning over completely, she stared at it, reflecting on the performance she had just witnessed.
For a brief moment, she wondered:
How does she do it? How can she make so many people rise with her music? How does she...
How does she have the courage to sing in front of everyone?
It was a question that might seem ridiculous. After all, a famous performer would naturally know how to handle an audience. Yet, to her, such a seemingly trivial act was worthy of admiration.
The music had stopped playing, but she knew that sound would never truly fade. It was engraved not only in her mind but everywhere, marking the legacy of that singer.
And yet, she did not seek fame, prestige, or wealth. More than anything, she did not aspire to be like that woman—like "Grande Lena."
Even though she acknowledged Lena's talent, her own reasons were too personal to ever see herself in someone so gifted.
"For the world to hear us..." How ridiculous...
She scoffed, recalling one of the singer's most famous lyrics, dismissing it immediately. After all, she understood one thing better than anyone—
Not all voices are meant to be heard. Least of all, hers.