I was 12 when I first heard someone calling me a "young star". Can't say I understood what that actually meant, but at that time I didn't understand most of the things people said ever since someone called me a "music prodigy".
A star is a massive, luminous sphere of plasma, with several bodies revolving around. All those bodies receive warmth from it, as far as they don't get too close to the star. A body close enough to a star get burned. And it goes until the star dies.
Today, 15 years later, a week after my father died, to which funeral I didn't attend because I passed out after another concert night with brandy and cocaine, years since I last talked to my mother, I finally got why people called me a "star". And I lost all my hope of being close to anyone once again.
So I held the gun. Today is the day that I die.
