The young celebrity DJ covered in neon accessories, saw the expression in my eyes and immediately backed away from his equipment.

He reached out to cut the power to the microphones, but I shot him a glare so cold that his hand froze mid-air.

I wrapped my trembling fingers tightly around the cool metal of the primary microphone. I pressed my thumb firmly against the power switch.

For the first time in my life, I was about to control the narrative, and I was going to bring their perfect facade down.
For a few seconds, I stood beside the booth and listened to the last scraps of laughter die away.

My hands were shaking, but the fear no longer controlled them. Every year of silence had brought me to that platform, and I knew there would be no returning to the person I had been.