I regret to inform everyone that I have fallen—face first, dramatically, no recovery roll—into the emotional support idol pit and his name is Tamon Fukuhara.
Like EXCUSE ME??? This man really said:
✨ on stage: ethereal, glittering, eye-contact-that-could-pay-my-rent confidence king
🕳️ off stage: hoodie gremlin who looks like he just got emotionally audited by life
AND I LOVE HIM FOR IT.
The duality is actually illegal. Someone call the authorities. How are you gonna be:
- crying into a microphone like your soul is dissolving into sparkles
- then immediately go home and become a sentient pile of anxiety wrapped in oversized fabric???
Sir. Pick a lane. (don’t actually pick a lane I need both.)
Also the dynamic with the main character??? HELLO???
She’s out here doing emotional CPR like:
“sir please breathe”
and he’s like:
“I cannot, I have decided to perish internally.”
Meanwhile I’m in the corner like:
🧎♀️ “your honor I can fix him”
🧎♀️ “your honor he doesn’t need fixing he just needs snacks and reassurance”
🧎♀️ “your honor I am also unwell”
AND THE MOMENT WITH THE HAND HOLDING???
I blacked out. I ascended. I paid taxes in another dimension.
Not to mention his stupid little expressions:
- smug smirk? jail.
- dead inside eyes? ALSO jail.
- crying while singing?? straight to emotional damage prison.
He’s literally:
✨ 10% confidence
✨ 90% internal screaming
✨ 100% my problem now
Anyway if Tamon Fukuhara has a million fans I’m one of them
if he has one fan it’s me
if he has no fans I have evaporated into a fine dramatic mist
