I recommend reading this while listening to Aerosmith's "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing."
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Generally, in a band, the vocalist and the guitarist hog all the spotlight. That is simply the nature of the beast.
However, the new thrust stage setup debuted at Knebworth Park diluted the spotlight usually reserved for Hide.
With the vast expanse of Knebworth Park as his stage, Hide was busy sprinting from left to right. Of course, this had become a fairly common sight since Sakamoto joined the lineup, but the fans were seeing something new: the intricate finger work of the other members on their respective instruments, their unique body language for every song, and their raw facial expressions.
The spotlights swept over Tanaka Shuji, Yokishi, and Sakamoto in turn.
The audience found this new stage configuration refreshing. Although Enfants Terribles was never truly a one-man show, the fans' gaze had historically gravitated toward Hide rather than Shuji or Yokishi.
'I used to feel like this was Hide's one-man team, but seeing them now, I guess that wasn't it.'
"Yeah! Look at Shuji go! That guy really knows how to play the crowd, doesn't he?"
In the early days of his career, Shuji's somewhat self-centered personality made it difficult for him to connect with fans. But through the advice and accumulated experiences of various idols he'd befriended, he had become remarkably adept.
"Give it up for the Musclemon over there working his hair off!"
Whenever it wasn't his part to play, Shuji locked eyes with the fans and joked around. Between regulating the pace of the stage and finding the perfect timing to grab the mic, his showmanship had reached a state of maturity.
Following Shuji's lead, the crowd's attention shifted to Yokishi. He was the sturdy, towering tree that anchored the music of Enfants Terribles.
Within the band, one could say Hide was the soul and Shuji was the heart—which left Yokishi as the backbone. Not just a drummer who struck skins and brass, but the kind who encouraged everyone through the hardest times and kept them moving forward.
"Whoa! Yokishi's playing definitely lives up to those muscles!"
All the audience saw when they looked at Yokishi was the sight of him gripped by a feverish intensity, hammers of wood beating the drums.
In truth, this was the fate of a drummer. In any given song structure, the guitar or bass usually has parts where they can rest, but a drummer rarely enjoys such luxury.
Rest is virtually non-existent, and it's the same for any band.
A band without a drum is like a ship without a rower; thus, even before 250,000 people, Yokishi did nothing but strike his drums with passionate violence.
'See? You guys do just fine without me.'
In contrast to the drums, the most dispensable entities in a band were the vocalist and the guitarist. Bassists and drummers are notoriously hard to find, but guitarists and vocalists are so common you could trip over them in the street.
Even the guitar work was increasingly being handed over to Sakamoto. Now, my role within Enfants Terribles had shrunk to something quite small.
"It's your turn now, Boss."
"Time for the leader to step up."
As the song ended, the members began heading toward the center stage one by one. Everyone except Hide.
He sat down on the railing of the thrust stage. Hide could see the fans pressing their bodies against the barricades. Flashing a smile at them, Hide gripped the microphone.
[I Don't Want to Miss a Thing]
This was a single Hide had hurriedly recorded and released during the world tour. It had soared to number one on the Billboard Hot 100 the moment it was released—a rare rock ballad for Enfants Terribles, filled with lyrical, sentimental lines that didn't quite fit their usual rebellious image.
Seated there, he began to sing as if sharing a sincere, whispered story with the audience.
Happiness always has a way of shattering without warning. I could still recall the scenery of that dim night with tactile clarity—down to the crescent moon that shone over me as I trudged along.
How could I ever forget? The rhythmic thud of my heart that quickened strangely with every step away, the hallway that felt unusually deathly quiet that day, and the vivid sound of my own receding footsteps echoing in my ears.
When happiness breaks, the world turns to monochrome. How many times have I chewed over that day, nearly collapsing under the weight of my own self-loathing?
I had become the rock star I dreamed of being all my life, yet I had nothing left. My former self-assurance had vanished without a trace, and the family I thought I'd finally built had left my side.
At this moment, with everything that made me 'me' gone, what am I even existing for? Rather than losing my reason for being and slowly fading away, it would be better to just burn out all at once.
I've only run this far out of a sense of responsibility as a rock star and out of loyalty to Shuji and Yokishi. And now that Enfants Terribles and the genre of rock itself are finally back on track...
Now was the moment for me to disappear like smoke.
Hide, who had squeezed his eyes shut while singing, snapped them open. As he did, a tear that had been clinging to the corner of his eye traced a line down his face.
.
.
.
.
The moment the first day of the now-legendary Knebworth Park concert ended and he stepped down from the stage, Hide's silhouette crumpled to the floor.
The expression on the fallen Hide's face was incredibly peaceful. He didn't look like he was in pain; he looked merely like someone who had drifted off to sleep.
The problem, however, was that his breath was growing fainter by the second.
"Leader!!!!"
"Boss!!!!"