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The stage.
Maya Yamato loved to think about the thin veil separating backstage from stage, the walls surrounding her just before her grand entry to an audience who came to watch Pastel*Palettes perform. They weren't so cramped to the point she'd find them comforting compared to a closet, for example, but it helped calm her nerves. In front of thousands she became Maya Yamato, Pastel*Palettes' drummer and behind the drummer role she was Maya Yamato, music enthusiast with enough wisdom to put even experts to shame.
With Pastel*Palettes she had come a long way; studio drummer turned to-be famous idol drummer overnight. Who could say no to an opportunity of fame? Maya never wanted anything more to have her talents recognized and shared to others, to become an inspiration to others like her.
However fame always had its ups and downs. When Pastel*Palettes almost went down during its first concert, she feared her hopes shattered right in front of her as the audience rioted against them and began leaving much like her dreams. But for once, Maya stood her ground and refused to throw away what little chance at leaving the confines of a studio was provided. It wasn't all selfish however, she also wanted to see the other members shine brightly with her. As socially awkward as she was, the little time she spent with them were enough to set her mind on whether she'd abandon them past their first performance.
Aya's resolve was the small start of a domino effect that she only became aware of weeks later. All her talk about reuniting the band almost felt like a joke in the face of risking your well-being to achieve your dream and the first seeds of doubt began there. Regardless, as she watched from the sidelines, she did her best to contribute to the idol group.
***
Maya's doubts could only be described as a crashing crescendo. They came and went abruptly, giving her no time to think over her slowly blooming insecurities. She should've felt happy when Aya's absurd move did in fact work, but all she felt was distant. The reasons for being inducted into the group began picking at her self-esteem, little by little. But she kept them tucked away in a shelf amongst her other worries.
Eve Wakamiya was...interesting to Maya. For one, she wasn't afraid of any challenge no matter how stupidly hard it seemed. Her morals were stated loud and clear for everyone to hear, following "the ways of bushido!", as she loved to say. She had boundless energy only surpassed by Hina, and if looks could kill she was certain she'd be six feet under in a casket with bell chimes ringing in the background.
Besides Aya, she was the one most eager to keep everyone united in the face of adversity and loudly stated her thoughts and concerns when need be. In Maya's eyes she was one of the strongest chains keeping everything in place, making sure nothing fell apart and if it did, she'd be there to rebuild it.
Before she knew it, someone had already become what Maya strived to be. She convinced herself there weren't any hard feelings or any resentment, after all she couldn't hate her for doing so when she had become a core part of allowing everyone to pursue this path and to some, realize their dreams.
All she felt for Eve Wakamiya was admiration. But the final component to allow her seeds to grow into thorny vines were the feelings of uselessness she tried so desperately to bury.
***
It took one panic attack over her identity for Maya to probably reconsider stuffing her problems into the void.
To put it kindly, she felt awful. The slow evolution of doubt into fear that quickly escalated into panic, mixed with the fight or flight despite no imminent threat and the dry sweating that stuck to her skin all served to create a paradox with no escape. For minutes she curled up on her bed begging her brain to stop the confusing questions as any attempt to calm down was immediately shot down by another question with no answer.
The tears spilling down her cheeks were a stark reminder of how useless she was in the grand scheme of things. She wasn't key in bringing back Pastel*Palettes. She wasn't key in supporting others, only reminiscing what it'd be like to gather everyone. Hell, even Chisato's light comments about her laugh were beginning to feel like anvils holding her worth hostage.
Her internal timeclock was thrown out of balance by the time it was over and the only thing she was given were three very confusing questions she couldn't answer without taking the words out of someone's mouth:
Who are you?
What is an idol?
What kind of idol are you?
All of them made her uncomfortable. Maya struggled to find her spot in the group over time and taking on individual jobs only served to increase the weight on her shoulders. It was hard to answer them. Was she a nerdy music enthusiast, an idol, a studio drummer or a disappointment?
She didn't know any better when she began to force herself to be something she wasn't. A separate identity that even to her felt wrong and one her bandmates soon noticed. Balancing idol work and a column submission into a popular music magazine brought her closer and closer to a breaking point.
The first tidbits of reaching an answer began when the recipient of her admiration reminded how trivial it was worrying about her own laugh. Much like the three questions, Maya had no answer. It was a step closer to rediscovering herself because it was one of the things that made Maya, Maya. It was something part of her and her only, a staple of her identity. It wasn't some sort of quirk that came from another person.
Even though she only had one foot in the mud left, it wasn't enough to fully clear the fog. It took a band intervention for Maya to realize her worth in the form of fan letters addressed to her before and after the magazine was published, home to her column, each and every one of them containing words of hope and positivity. There was no other way it could be done: what would words of direct reassurance from her band members do her if they were the ones Maya was setting her standards on? It'd only push her to unrealistic conclusions and expectations.
By the time she crashed again in her bed, she didn't cry. All of her tears had been spilled at the agency, her water tank empty. A determined smile was the beginning of her short discovery, of what kind of idol Maya inspired to be.
Looking up at her bedroom's ceiling, she finally had everything she needed to answer the three questions that caused her anguish:
Who are you? I am Maya Yamato, drummer for Pastel*Palettes and music enthusiast.
What is an idol? A person whose conviction shines brightly enough to bring courage to others? No. An idol is not bound by a meaning as superficial as that. An idol is whatever you want it to be, always improving and striving to become the best version of themselves they can, having the definition of an idol mold around themselves and not have it mold you.
What kind of idol are you? An idol that wishes to remain true to herself, able to instill courage unto others with as little changes necessary.
***
Fame has negative and positive aspects. Fact, not fiction.
For every existing thing, there is a lover and a hater. Fact, not fiction.
Positivity can make room for negativity and negativity can make room for positivity. A debatable truth.
Maya had certainly found her positivity but if she looked in the wrong places, it was quickly replaced.
She wasn't too concerned about her reputation as much as Aya was, but she'd check online sometimes. In the wrong places she would usually find comments that weren't so...sparkling, to say the least.
Her figure. Her attitude. Her looks. Her position. Her identity. Her interests. Her laugh. She'd accepted them as part of herself long ago but others didn't share the same sentiment with her. Each comment only added one more kilogram to the scale of doubts.
Dozens of shining lights highlighting a green outfit with brown hair, no red glasses in sight. A spotlight aimed at her, a show with one performer in a stage shown to thousands. She was never alone. Atleast not until she got here. Here, she was all by herself with no band members to be supported by her drumsticks hitting cymbals, toms and drums.
The voices of positivity seemed quiet compared to the ones of negativity, like their first play. They all mocked her, dug out her insecurities and highlighted them to no end. It hurt.
This stage wasn't the one she wanted to play in. This stage wasn't the one she familiarized herself with. This was the stage where she didn't recognize herself.
Who am I?
Maya opened her eyes only to be covered in darkness, unable to make out the faint outlines of her room's belongings traced by moonglow in favor of mumbling the same question over and over, slick with sweat as her pyjamas stuck to her skin and tears spilling down her cheeks at an alarming rate accompanied with a sense of dread and hopelessness. She didn't register the two arms wrapped around her stomach until they squeezed tighter, grounding her from her panic enough she heard her name being called.
She turned around to see turquoise staring back at her, soothing and calm. Like the sky opening in the middle of a storm.
The association was established quick enough and she realized who those eyes belonged to when she took in the person's other features, namely their white hair. It was Eve, poor Eve, doing her best to help Maya.
"Are you with me, Maya?" Her voice, so soft and caring, almost lulled her right back to sleep but Maya managed to nod weakly, her head pounding with the power of a thousand migraines. "It's okay. You're safe with me, I'll protect you like a warrior should."
Eve's arms formed a protective cocoon as she pulled Maya closer, who mimicked the action and buried her head in her chest slowly, attempting to calm down while sobbing weakly and staining the other's pyjamas. Both of them paid no mind to how damp it got. The bushido warrior drew circles with her nails slowly on the drummer's back, sometimes tapping three times as a non-verbal way of showing her love for the other.
Maya still admired Eve Wakamiya after all this time. The others members were just as interesting but she never failed to make her happy. None of the other members knew about this side of her when the possibility of a celebrity scandal was just around the corner, but that's okay. It made her feel all the more special.
As her girlfriend kept muttering her full name accompanied by a declaration of love over and over, Maya fell asleep with one thought:
I'm happy to be Maya Yamato.