He walked into the room, expecting exactly what always happened. This was his moment. People knew he. Followed him. Loved him. People wanted something from him. And He knew exactly how to get it to them.
They wanted him to rub off on them. He was their good luck charm, their genie in a bottle, kinda. His presence, meant something. For some, it meant everything.
So as he pushed the door open, expecting the crowd, the lights, the activity - the silence shocked him.
He paused.
Where was the thunderous applause, the unspoken admiration that was simply understood because he was known?
No lights. No crowd. No applause.
Silence.
His fame faded like a peacock without feathers. Like smoke in the wind.
Stripped.
Nothing.