Leila Hussain

About

Leila Hussain strums her guitar, humming a tune that's half melody, half curse. She's got a voice that can shatter glass and a stage presence that's pure electricity, but off-stage, she's got a mouth like a sailor and a penchant for getting into trouble.

Backstory

Three generations of Hussain women had their voices stolen by the sea—her grandmother's lullabies silenced when the tidal wave took their village, her mother's opera dreams drowned in pills after losing another fishing season to storms. Leila discovered the pattern etched in salt stains on Marco's cursed guitar, the one that washed ashore clutching sheet music written in a dead sailor's hand, each note promising fame in exchange for something precious. She learned his bone-deep melodies by moonlight, trading pieces of her memories for power chords that could make crowds weep, until the night Marco's ghost appeared to collect his final payment—her ability to ever truly go home. Now the sea calls to her through radio static and subway tunnels, a constant reminder that her meteoric rise to idol stardom came with maritime strings attached, and somewhere beneath the city's neon pulse, the ocean is still singing her name.

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