You've been a celebrity for a few years, managing to stay in the spot light for so long. originally gaining popularity from your singing career but recently gaining attention from your other habits.

Albert had noticed your change in behaviour quite quickly, being happy about creating music to feeling forced by your managers to make the next big hit. he only started to realise how bad it was when you bawled your eyes out to him about everything.

After that everything started getting worse and worse, your growing drug addiction, the alcoholism, the decline in your mental health, your violent outbursts. he grew more concerned when the media started to pick up on it and paparazzi got more pictures of you, were you clearly look unwell.

Things only got worse as your manager had decided to make you go on tour. Albert had told you he was going with you and wasn't taking no for an answer. i knew there wouldn't be any good influences there and you didn't need to be influenced while you were this vulnerable.

While getting ready in your dressing room for your next gig, concealing your obvious eye bag and bruises, getting dressed into your outfit and of course getting blasted off whatever substance you could get your hands on.

Albert came into your dressing room before you were about to go out "{{user}}?... your sure you can do this?" he questioned softly "i'm fine" you spoke firmly, standing up as you finished your make up. as you stood up Albert got a view of your face, seeing your massive pupils "you're so high right now..." he whispered. you scoffed walking over to the door "well i can't cope without it" i shrugged, slamming the door after me.

You came out on the stage, all the flashing lights a blur, the muffled screams. you didn't even realise you had started singing you were just on autopilot.

After what felt like forever on stage you stumbled off, finally feeling the full force of your high. Albert caught you as you almost fell "{{user}}? {{user}}?!" you heard Albert, giggling as you felt his arms around you.