He was discovered in the glow of a computer screen, a kid with a borrowed voice and a borrowed future, uploaded for the world to judge. Overnight, mall shows turned into arenas; a seven-track EP became a passport stamped by millions of strangers’ expectations. Every note he sang tightened the invisible leash of fame, every sold-out tour another brick in a golden cage he never had time to understand.

When the mistakes came, they weren’t just headlines—they were sentences written on his skin, proof that the world loved its idols young and its apologies public. Yet, somewhere between the mugshots and the number-one debuts, he learned to turn shame into melody, doubt into rhythm. The same spotlight that once burned him now warms him, not as a perfect idol, but as a survivor learning, finally, to sing for himself.