city of stars | hyunlix

city of stars

Long ago, on a rainy night in Paris. Dark and heavy, the clouded firmament hung over the sparkling city.

The millions of lights of the City of Love, mirrored, multiplied in the puddles and waters.

Raindrops were slowly running down the brightly lit windows, dripping from the thousands of umbrellas – held by laughing teenagers, hurrying adults.

Few cars bumped over the rain-shining cobblestones. Music and colourful tangles of voices and languages rushed out of the open windows and doors of the many restaurants.

An older one – radiant with charm – was located directly at the Seine River, in which the Eiffel Tower was reflected softly and transfigured. Loudly, the clock struck 10.

Noble red carpet, high ceilings, adorned with gigantic yet filigree chandeliers. Muted light scattered over the large hall – marble columns, palm trees, and deep red curtains.

The windows were covered with mist – so many people lingered in the ambiance. Live music wandered through the magnificent room, directing dreamy glances to a shallow, remote stage.

A microphone leaning against full pink lips and platinum blonde hair shining silky in the dim light of the restaurant. The singer's deep voice wrapped itself comfortably warm around the senses of his audience - like honey.

The light plays of the gigantic chandeliers rushed across the stage, to the chestnut-brown piano, which was so poignantly played, and back across the whole restaurant, grazing a dark-haired waiter.

His black hair fell softly around his neck, the elegant uniform complimented his charming smile, making him a shimmering part of the ambience.

And while the guests gazed at the handsome singer, his gaze followed only the route of this one waiter – the loops through the crowded tables.

A blissful smile snuck on his lips, which also reflected in his lovely singing as soon as he could catch the eyes of the other – light blue met dark depth.

And a delicate smile slipped on the dark-haired man's lips as well. Long eyelashes batted down briefly, letting him linger for a second in the moment before he gallantly stepped to the next table – concealing the sparkle in his eyes, which only so protruded in the women's eyes.

Couples in dazzling dresses and suits – woman and man - danced in the soft sounds of music on the small dance floors, right under one of the giant chandeliers.

The clock struck 2. The lights of the city - now dimmed - competing against the star-studded deep, clear night sky.

Any sounds and voices flattened. Empty roads on which the rain had silently drizzled a few minutes earlier.

Last remaining people who rushed home in the dark of the night. Restaurants, which were getting closed, lights which gradually went out, letting the old restaurant at the Seine River shine like the brightest star.

The warm light still made its way to the dance floor, on which only a platinum-blond singer and a dark-haired waiter - nestled tightly together - danced to the soft melodies of the gramophone.

The ambience – like a cozy, shimmering blanket – let them stay in their own world for a few precious moments.

Their smiles no longer just soft, restrained but wide, luminous, real and free.

Light touches, emotional kisses, weightless laughter.

Their eyes shone only for each other in that moment, as bright as when they were only together. More sparkling than any star, more sparkling than Paris, more lovingly than Paris - they were able to build their own city of stars in the security of the quiet night.

And in it they could be together, while the world of Paris stood still and only their voices accompanied the harmonious piano sounds – until the morning would take over them, and they would have to wait another day for the redemptive stars.