Which Star Are You From?

Chapter 1: Somewhere in the Stars

"It's the electromagnetic radiation that a blackhole emits due to the event horizon constantly breaking apart particles and antiparticles." A man in a black hoodie from behind sternly answered.

"Umm... yea-YES. That is correct." The professor uttered in astonishment. "The Hawking Radiation, also known as the Hawking-Zel'dovich Radiation, was speculated to be released by blackholes due to the separation of matter and antimatter at the edge of the event horizon."

     When the class ended, the professor approached the man wearing a black hoodie in the back who happened to be the only student left. The young man had his head bowed as he read the thick textbook for the class.

"That's a first. A student who actually reads the textbook." The professor thought to himself.

He bent down slightly, leveling his head to the man's head, looking at what he was reading.

"Class has ended. I believe classrooms can't be rented out like dormitories."

He obviously startled the student. The young man looked left to right then at the professor and told him that he didn't notice the class has ended, which made the professor let out a short giggle.

"That was pretty impressive of you, by the way. Answering in confidence on the first day of class."

"It was a pretty basic question." The young man answered.

"Professor Drake, Thomas Drake." The professor gladly introduced himself to who he felt was going to be one of his top students.

"Paul. Nice to meet you, Professor Drake." Paul shook the professor's hand firmly.

---

     The days were cut short in the winter, but spring was not too far. Paul was finishing up cutting the yellow tulips' stems, prepping them up for tomorrow's sale. He had also counted that day's profit and had checked out of the cash register. All there was left to do was to take out the trash and clock out. Everything was being done in haste but efficiency. Paul could not wait to get out of his aunt's flower shop and grab his telescope to drive two hours outside of Williamsport, Pennsylvania, a city of nothingness but was the perfect paradise for quiet and reserved people like him; not perfect enough for his passion, but close enough to a place where he can freely express it.

"Paul, don't forget to lock the doors when you leave! Be careful driving at night. The roads can get a bit icy at this time of the year."

"Got it aunt Zamora! If you need me to get you anything, just text me. I'll catch you later!"

"See ya!"

     Paul started living on his own when he realized his aunt was struggling to pay for him when he was eighteen. She was willing to support him, but it was no secret that she did not earn enough for herself, what more for the both of them. Knowing this, Paul had moved out of his aunt's house but promised to help around at the flower shop to repay all the years she sustained for him. Although her aunt told him that she did it because she loved him, deep down, Paul knew that it was also because his aunt loved her younger sister, Paul's mother, with all she had.

He has grown under the supervision of his aunt who did not plan to get remarried after she lost her husband to Leukemia. Ever since, she had poured all of her energy, time, and love into supporting Paul, which he will forever feel in debt for. Being an orphan, he faintly had a memory of his parents and what they looked like. He was three years old when they died in a car accident. Sometimes, he wished that he had more time to spend with them or at least long enough to remember their faces, but life always replaces what it takes away; aunt Zamora stood as a substitute for his parents as he did for her husband.

The undying love for astronomy he had was thanks to his aunt. When he was five years old and was attending kindergarten, he often felt jealous and distraught whenever he saw the other kids get picked up by a pair of parents. This had left him wondering how normal and less lonely his life would have been if his parents were still alive. Aunt Zamora sat him down when they got home and asked him what was wrong.

"Aunt Zammy, what did my parents look like?" He answered the question with another question.

"Paul, sweetie, your parents looked a beautiful pair. You look a lot like your mother, and she was beautiful and kind!"

"Why did they leave me so soon? Why, aunt Zammy? Why were they taken away?" a five-year-old Paul questioned with hints of confusion and anger.

"Darling, do not be angry, but I do not know the answer myself. What I do know is that, although they are not physically with you, they are looking after you from somewhere else. That, I am sure of."

"Where would they be? How can I get there?"

"Hmm, I honestly do not have the answer. I can only feel it. Maybe that is why they are not here. Because there are truths out there that we do not know, but trust. Your mom and dad probably would have looked after you better if they were not here, but somewhere else."

"Where? Where could they possibly be?"

"Perhaps as souls, they have gone back to the stars."

At that point in time, the child stopped questioning. It was not because he knew it was true, nor because he trusted his aunt, but because he felt it. It was a buzz, very small, but enough to calm an angry five-year-old's heart and mind.

     Driving was no big deal. It was setting up his telescope that really took up time. The instrument had to be handled with utmost care, or else, the mirrors in his reflector might get displaced. He had spent a great deal amount of money investing in a high quality telescope that he treated it like it was a fragile newborn. When he got to Potter County, he drove past Cherry Springs State Park, a nationwide known location for stargazing, and continued driving for ten more minutes to get to an open field that was only exclusive to him. People rarely go to that spot because they usually can't possibly have fun stargazing without an expensive telescope of their own there, unlike at Cherry Springs where telescopes can be rented out; not as sophisticated as his, but that also meant those telescopes did not capture as spectacular of a view as his did.

     A telescope, an atlas, a map, and a man whose heart was ready to set off to outer space. It sounded extraordinary and adventurous, but to Paul, it was really just as ordinary as jocks keeping up with football. Or so he thought.