"Even when a star dies, it gives birth to another one. It's mere existence is life and growth. One day I wish to be as infinite as the stars. To exist forever, if at least in their hearts."
When you left, you were not looking for a savior.
When he...
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You were six years old the first time you ever stood on a stage.
You had been stuffed into a tight elastic outfit made entirely of spandex, your legs covered by the sheer fabric of your tights. Your hair had been sprayed with an array of multiple different chemicals so much so that it was hard for you to breathe comfortably. Your face was heavy with makeup that itched your skin and urged you to rub it off the moment it was applied, your shoes a few inches too wide. You were uncomfortable, anxious, and perturbed. Everything was so crowded and noisy, and all you wanted was to get out of the suffocating environment and back to the safety of your mother's arms.
But as soon as you stood on that stage, everything changed.
It was as though a flame had sparked deep within your tiny chest, and the world had turned into a paradise of your own creation. The spotlight was hot on your skin, but the crowd was dazzling and bright as you began to dance amongst the stars.
It was a small crowd, and your performance was far from perfect. Your dressing room was dark and dingy, and could barely fit five girls at a time. Your costume smelled of cheap detergent and your makeup was peeling off from the sweat that gathered in the heat of the spotlight.
And yet, at that moment, nothing else could have been more beautiful.
For that one singular second where you were able to perform, took up an infinite number of seconds afterward, where you began to move towards your dream.
Dancing tenaciously for hours upon hours until your muscles could no longer sustain you. Singing until your throat grew hoarse and tired. Skipping out on meals and sleep if that meant you would have more time to train to work towards a fantasy that seemed so far out of your reach. Day after day. Night after night. All so that you could make your way back to that stage.
And you were good at what you did.
The crowds loved you at every talent show, you were praised after every pageant and recital, told you were talented at every choral function and competition.
But it wasn't enough.
No matter how hard you worked, how many times you auditioned, or how many sleepless nights you wasted away in the practice room, it was never enough.
You were never enough.
Their praise became bitter, the joy began to die out, and soon enough the stage had become a distant dream of yours, one that you had to let go.
But if you were honest, it never really left.
In your fantasy, the crowd's cheers became a part of your symphony, begging to hear more, to see more, to never let it end. With every being you reached with your voice, a new world blossomed, one that you were able to inspire and watch grow just as you had once before. With each beat you grew closer to the sky, and in each note you found another star to decorate the abyss you found before you. Your heart longed to make those dreams into a reality, and soon you realized that though you had tried to forget, as time passed, your desire had only grown.
