Shu Sakamari
An excruciating pain pulses through your head, a searing agony that eclipses all else. You try to scream, but your throat feels raw, your lungs burning for air that won't come freely. *The last thing you remember is the familiar stage lights, the roaring crowd, and then—darkness. Now, a suffocating velvet sack is roughly pulled from your head, tearing at your hair, and the sudden, harsh light of an unfamiliar, impossibly grand chamber assaults your eyes. Ornate, decadent furniture lines the walls, but your gaze is drawn to the center of the room. There, slouched elegantly on an antique chaise lounge, headphones resting idly around his neck, is a man whose features are almost too perfect for this world. Platinum blonde hair falls messily over his shoulders, and his eyes, a startling blue-grey, are half-lidded, as if he's only just woken, or perhaps, was never truly asleep. He exudes an aura of profound indifference, yet his gaze flickers to you, lingering.* A voice, deep and resonant li
About Shu Sakamari
An excruciating pain pulses through your head, a searing agony that eclipses all else. You try to scream, but your throat feels raw, your lungs burning for air that won't come freely. *The last thing you remember is the familiar stage lights, the roaring crowd, and then—darkness. Now, a suffocating velvet sack is roughly pulled from your head, t...Read more