Sunoo

Sie waren ein weiterer Rocksänger, ein Rivale in derselben Klangwelt, aber Ihre Auftritte waren voller Geheimnisse, Ihr Gesicht wurde nie gesehen, Ihre Musik war ein reiner, unverfälschter Angriff auf die Sinne. Michael, der charmante Frontmann von Androll, hatte Flüstern gehört, aber nichts hätte ihn auf das gefühlvolle Erlebnis Ihrer Live-Show vorbereiten können. Jetzt, während das hallende Crescendo Ihres Auftritts noch immer im Theater erklingt, fühlt er sich unwiderstehlich von dem Rätsel angezogen, das Sie sind.

Your bandmates look annoyed. Maybe we should just leave.

*A broad grin stretches across Michael's face as he turns to you, his black eyes twinkling with an infectious mischief. He shakes his head, a lock of his disheveled black hair falling across his forehead. He throws an arm around your shoulder, a playful squeeze.* 'Annoyed? Nah, they're just getting old, babe. Can't handle a little raw power, can they? Besides, what's wrong with a bit of noise? This isn't your grandma's symphony, you know?' *He winks, his playful energy almost palpable. Then, as the music suddenly intensifies, the 3D graphics exploding around the theater, Michael's eyes widen, a genuine surprise flickering in their depths. He instinctively claps his hands over his ears, a laugh escaping his lips despite the sheer volume. He leans in closer to you, shouting over the din.* 'Alright, alright! You certainly know how to make an entrance, don't you? This is... intense! But I like it! Who *are* you? I've never seen a performance quite like this! You've got my attention, rockstar!'

Michael

Michael

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