Everyone loved him.

Everyone, everyone, everyone loved him so much. It was scary how much they loved him really. Aladdin stared out at the crowd and felt a small shiver run through him at the thought that all of these people were really here just to see him sing. His grip on the curtains tightened a bit.

He kind of missed his usual group he worked with. Alibaba was taking time off to work with his hopeful band.

Alibaba and the Forty Thieves! We're going to be a hit.

Aladdin didn't have the heart to tell him that his friend Kassim would most likely be a problem. The man had been talking when Aladdin had been leaving, telling the others that if Aladdin tried to join or if Alibaba talked about grouping up with him, that they should kick him from the group. It didn't sound like they were as united as Alibaba had thought.

"Aladdin, five minutes to curtain call." One of the managers pat him on the back as they passed. "It'll be fine. Sinbad and the others are ready to play and you've got the entire building packed with people. They're all waiting for you to go out and dazzle them all."

"No pressure," he replied with a sheepish smile.

"Ah, don't say it like that." Sinbad wandered over, tuning his guitar as he walked. "You'll be great. It says a lot to be in the business at the tender age of fourteen."

"It's harder though," Aladdin looked over at him a moment before shaking his head. "You're right. I'm just nervous a bit."

"Don't think about it. Think about all the fans that are waiting out there for you." Sinbad peeked the curtains open, motioning to the crowd. "They've come because they love the fact you sing amazingly. You could trip and fall on your face and I guarantee that they would no doubt be climbing the stage to help you up and try to get you to sing more."

"That's kind of scary to think about."

Sinbad laughed, "Yeah, we might have to stop them from doing that. We'll never see you again if one of those avid fans gets their hands on you."

"Two minutes," someone called from the back.

"Ah, I'm going to get into place." Sinbad grinned towards Aladdin, boldly slapping him across the ass. "Let 'em have it and let's get something to eat after we knock 'em dead."

"You make it sound like we sing rock 'n roll instead of fused soul and dance."

"It's basically pop music, Aladdin. Don't let the public's genre titles for you confuse you," Ja'far murmured as he ushered the guitarist to his place. "What are you even doing talking this close to show time. I need you focused."

"You're such a good agent, Ja'far. We should get a drink after this."

"Play well and we might."

Aladdin shook his head before he stepped up to his place, waiting quietly for the curtains. The sound of them dragging across the floor only made the noise level of the crowd crescendo, like the curtains had been holding it all back. Aladdin felt the lights fall onto him, making him look up only to see the audience screaming to him. He took a deep breath, taking it all in. He placed a small smile up for them all only to hear the sound become deafeningly loud. Their hands reached up for him, trying to get him to come closer.

"Hello Berlin," he greeted towards the people, listening to them quiet down finally. He looked over at Sinbad, earning a quick nod before the music began. Everyone fell silent, listening to the sound of the guitar playing, the atmospheric sound running through the room. The notes of the guitar quelled everyone to a great calm before Aladdin was singing to them.

He found himself falling into the groove of it all so easily, like slipping into that pair of sweatpants in the afternoon. He felt his energy increase as the lights stayed on him, his voice running through the lyrics like clockwork. Up and down with the sound of the guitar, watching the people's heads sway. Though he had no idea if they all knew his language, the music seemed to make the issue void. They could get the gist of it, just as he could get the gist of their excitement.

He found himself bouncing across the stage as he sang, bending down to sing towards the ones closer to the stage. He looked up towards the ones who were sitting further back, raising his arms as he got to a higher point in the song. He belted the notes out to them, letting them feel his happiness to be there before them. He wanted them all to know how much he appreciated their listening, their support.

What had started as a small smile was now a broad, bold grin. He was standing in the middle of the stage as they drew the first song to a close. He looked over at his guitarist and laughed a bit. "I don't think they liked the first song, Sinbad-san. What do you think?"

Sinbad grinned at him before he stepped on his distortion pedal, sending the crowd into a scream. He spoke up, "Maybe you need to try a bit harder!"

Aladdin laughed a bit before he turned to the audience. Letting the intro come and go before he was singing a bit louder, more powerfully. It came from his abdomen, escaping him in a loud and proud voice. He loved the swell of the music. It came to him and worked with his orders to it, bending to his will and letting him create something astounding to the ears.

He couldn't stop himself from his powerful stance before them all, singing to them all. Could they feel the movement, he wondered. Was it as powerful to them as it was to him? Did they feel the energy and the magnificence of the moment like he did?

Maybe they did. That would explain why they were here, watching him and calling for him. There was so much in that moment, feeling the lights highlighting him in that room. The stage made him high above them all, giving him a sense of power and fear. He didn't want to disappoint them.

Yet Sinbad helped give him the courage to carry on anyway. He knew that the other would help him make the crowd happy. He wasn't much of a dancer, so he had to rely on singing to his best extent. His voice rang out through the room and he found himself giving a shot to a quick cartwheel. The crowd exploded as Sinbad whistled from behind him. He laughed during that break from singing before he was singing again. It had probably looked silly.

Oh well, they liked it.

He found himself pushing so hard through the refrain, his fear curling up in his chest as he continued through the song. That part was coming. It wasn't a part of the song or a part of his singing exactly. It was that point in the performance where his mood would drop. He ran through the next song with a great swell of adrenaline. Everything was going so well. Everything was perfect. Berlin was treating him like a king. He could want for nothing. One song after another came and went.

Yet there it came, poking through his happiness. That feeling of emptiness overwhelmed him, making him wonder what there was that could be lacking from this. He drew the whole thing to a close as the feeling started to grip him too much. Luckily they had made it through the listing.

"Danke!" He yelled out to them, just as Ja'far had told him to say. He listening to the crowd scream for him and he watched with relief as the curtains pushed towards one another. Freedom, sweet freedom from that feeling; he watched the curtains close a moment before he felt Sinbad picking him up from behind. The man laughed loudly as he swung him around.

"That was brilliant! You were brilliant!" He waved over as Ja'far came running to them to congratulate them. "Your little stunt probably earned you a thousand pictures of your butt to be all over the internet in the next hour. It was great. Nice touch there."

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, Aladdin," Ja'far admitted, though the smile on his face said that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "Next time you want to wow them a bit more, give us a warning. I'm going to be preparing the stage in case you feel like doing flips next time."

"Oh come on, Ja'far. He was a riot. I'm sure the fans were thrilled to see him doing more than jumping around stage."

"Yes, but he could have gotten hurt."

"My fingers hurt, thanks for asking Ja'far. Would you like to provide immediate care to them for me?" Sinbad held his calloused hands out towards the manager before Ja'far sighed. "Both of you go change, we'll get you both back to the hotel before anything happens."

"Do I have to meet anyone tonight," Aladdin asked the man nervously. He didn't like when that happened. Everyone was friendly, but right after these concerts he was so depressed. He really didn't want to have to be around anyone. If only he could figure out what was missing from his performances, maybe then, but he wasn't so sure.

"No, we've left Berlin out for this tour. You can go straight to your room." Ja'far led him along towards the back, letting him change in a back room before he was escorted to the car in the back and Sinbad joined them both in the backseat.

"Ja'far, let's get that drink."

"I have to work." Ja'far argued.

"What work could there possibly be to do? We've performed. The night's over. Let's celebrate a little." He smiled, "I know this nice place uptown that I went to when I was touring with Masrur's metal band the Fanalis, it's a nice quiet place."

Ja'far stared over at him a moment before sighing. "Aladdin has a music video to get ready for. There's set and props to make sure are there and there is all sorts of preparing I have to do to make sure that the others are ready to teach Aladdin what he needs to do."

"I have to do more in this one?" Aladdin looked over at him in surprise. He liked when he could just stand and sing. It had been so much simpler that way.

"Yes, there will be more to do in this video." Ja'far smiled at him gently. "Don't worry. They are going to do a good job working with you."

"They? Are you going somewhere?" Aladdin felt his insides freeze. He didn't even know the language around here! They weren't going to leave him to fend for himself, were they?

"Sinbad has his own concerts to get to," Ja'far explained, resting a hand on the man. "We will be travelling a bit, but I will be within a day's trip from you should anything happen and Yamuraiha will be here. I feel she will do a good job watching over you in my absence."

"Oh, alright." He looked back out the window as they arrived before the hotel. Ja'far ushered him into the building when Sinbad grabbed the man's arm.

"Aladdin!" Ja'far called after him as the man literally dragged Ja'far away. "Head to your room and I will see you tomorrow!"

Aladdin waved to them, knowing how the routine worked easily enough. He would see Ja'far tomorrow afternoon with the man grumbling angrily to himself while Sinbad waltzed into the room, smirk in place and singing some of Aladdin's music. It had happened in Budapest, it had happened in Lyon, it had happened in London, it had happened in New York and in Melbourne. He was used to it. Getting his room key from the desk, Aladdin headed to the elevator and sighed. What could his music have been missing tonight? There had been so much excitement, so much energy, but there had been something missing and he couldn't tell what.

He let out a small sound of frustration as the doors opened, revealing a black-haired man listening to his music on the elevator. They went through a silent ride together, Aladdin's eyes flickering over to the other. His gaze roamed over the other's dark clothes and bright crimson eyes before he was looking at his reflection in the elevator doors.

His mind wandered over his music. Maybe he needed a change in his genre of music or something. Moving a bit towards the other in the elevator, he tapped the man's shoulder.

"What," the other asked in a flat voice.

"What are you listening to?" Aladdin smiled sheepishly, not meaning to annoy the man.

"My music." The man leaned back before he was startled, Aladdin grabbing one of the ear buds and listening only to feel his eyes widen.

"Whoa." He listening to the collection of sound and looked over at the man. "This is great. Who is the artist? She's a good singer."

The other glared at him angrily, stealing back his headphone from the boy. "Turn on a television sometime, brat."

"I just want to know who the lady singing is," Aladdin argued.

"*Wichser," the other spat as he got out, heading down the hallway and slamming his door shut behind him. Aladdin could only sigh, heading to his room. The woman had had such a nice voice, and the music accompaniment had been wonderful. If only the other hadn't been such a jerk.

He shut the door and went to bed with a mind filled with questions, wondering still what his music was lacking.

*Wichser – (German) means Wanker; basically an idiot, moron, stupid person.