[Disease]

Leader, leader, leader

To the rhythm of the music, the body accompanied in a serene harmony. His fingers touched the smooth wood, as he hummed.

His unusually large eyes kept pace; In an artistic beauty, his fingers tapped on the wood, dancing drunk with liquor.

The environment was clean and calm, minimalist and a little messy; but still, he was the perpetrator of endless sensations.

"I would fall in love if I had no standards." The tentative young man said, tilting his head according to the melody.

"If the present, only present." A shocking scream sounded, an attempt echoed.

"I guess life is, in fact, cyclical... Such artistic eminence, being mentally ill between the lines." The young man gave his opinion regarding the lyrics that accompanied the melody.

"Young man Federick. Federick, Federick."

The wood did not exist, the rhythm non-existent, the melody dead.

He suddenly heard the words of an unknown voice, so he stood up with a smile. His hands in a gentle nervous grip, he headed towards the man who had spoken to him.

"Good morning, Young Federick. I'm glad you responded... I thought you had indeed fallen into madness." Said the man with a serious face, who hid his figure under a shabby cloak made of unknown fabrics.

"And I thought you were sane; polarity is really interesting... Excuse me, who are you?" Federick asked respectfully, doubt exerted by his eyes.

And so the madmen were judged for madness under the despotic eyes of the sane; who was not able to feel the melody.

"Someone who doesn't tilt his head like a chicken." The man who was well versed in sarcasm responded.

"Nice to meet you, I'm a weak cock man." Federick responded with an innocent smile, as he closed in a loving hug.

But the mischief lasted little or nothing... Before his respective swift blow from an open palm directly to the head.

"Boing, boing, boing... Too bad you're not a woman." The man said in an apathetic manner due to the dizziness he caused in the young man.

"Easy, easy... Shaolin." Federick said quickly in stupor. The blow had caused him slight blindness and uncontrollable dizziness.

"I have met a Master... Forgive me for my previous insolence, Master!" Federick shouted as he offered his apology in a palm-slap greeting.

"You're quite funny and witty." The man responded indifferently, observing the self-control demonstrated by the young man.

Who, despite his outward indifference, doubted the terms used: "shaolin", "master".

"I am accepting disciples... Goodbye." Federick said as he left the scene with a reflective smile and a friendly farewell.

But his recoil was prevented by a firm calloused hand on his inexperienced shoulder.

"Be careful, it's sensitive." Federick said with an open smile that narrowed his eyes.

"I was sent by your grandfather." The man responded stoically.

"Shit..."

...

With an indomitable wind, Federick and the man suddendly appeared in the alley of a busy street.

With a spontaneous noise, like thought to idea; two young men fled from the sudden appearance.

But it was not the only spontaneous reaction, Federick being the one who fell to the ground with his knees. Her gaze was lost, straight at the ground, as she held her belly hopelessly.

He had suffered the consequences of an extreme and violent stimulus.

"I see that even though you brag, your condition does not change... A simple villager; who cannot even maintain his composure after a short trip." The unknown man said with complete contempt.

At his comment, he only received a look from the aforementioned, who still could not stand upright.

...

"Did you say that you were sent by me, Grandfather?" Federick asked with slight difficulty, holding himself against a wall.

"Yes, I have been sent by Charles II. I am in charge of ensuring your well-being while you go home... Where, by the way, you will have to stay the rest of the day. You have really caused others embarrassment." The man said without hiding his murmuring laughter between the lines.

Given this information, Federick did not make it any more complex or lengthy, setting off immediately, but with difficulty.

"By the way, where are we?" Federick asked, observing his surroundings and the people.

"You keep going, you'll get there at some point; you're lazy, after all." The man responded as he followed behind him.

"I don't think my grandfather decided the goals at random." Federick commented, looking at the tall figure.

"I like chance as much as good alcohol." The man responded with a smile, looking in the direction of a bar where a considerable number of people were swarming.

Words that were ignored, ending their idle conversation.

"You don't have pretty petals, for a bitter rose; look at your state, disheveled, pale and unwell... I see that the wind also affected the people around." The man said humorously, observing Federick's messy hair.

And indeed, Federick's condition was similar to the others. Paleness, discomfort and disheveled appearance were general characteristics of the citizens who walked the streets.

"You're right... In fact, our aspects are similar." Federick responded rhetorically with humor.

Which apparently was not picked up by the bald man.

"But why?". Federick asked doubtfully.

"I am surprised that you do not know this, of course, as the crown prince... But, it is an issue that has recently plagued our citizens. Acting in a medium-term process, it generates such obvious symptoms." The man responded, sarcastically and clarifying doubts.

"Is the cause still not known?" Frederick asked.

"No, we don't. Like I said, it's recent..." The man responded without any type of hesitation.

"Where are you going?". asked Federick, who had completely changed his focus suddenly.

His words referred to a crowd of affected people walking in an organized line in a specific direction.

"To the church. Humans tend to idealize their desires towards haughty figures." The man responded modestly.

With his comment, the young man strangely covered his clothes with his weak arms in fear; which grafted doubts into the man's bald head.

But he was even more upset when he watched as Federick changed direction towards the steps of the sick crowd.

"Now I understand your modesty..." The man commented on the air, without words.

Thus, he had to follow the impulsive Federick, who quickly connected with the crowd, accompanying them to the church.

There, he observed the imposing architecture. The floodgates were open, with the intention of receiving the population.

Where Federick, with a last soft caress to the refined wood, headed towards the interior of the church.