One Day (previously known as Boys of Galaxies)

The first and only part- Noah and Elliot

The first boy was born on a humid August morning. It was almost 3am when he came out, crying. It was the first thing he ever did, was cry. And it was the last. Don't be fooled, he was not weak. His name was Noah, and the stars called him.

The second boy was brought into the world on a cold November evening. It was 7pm, and things were still. He came out crying as well, but not for long. Almost instantly he was quiet, wide doe eyes absorbing the hideous and beautiful world. His name was Elliot, and the music echoed his name long after he'd stopped playing.

Noah grew up side-by-side with his older sister Ava. They were both best friends and worst enemies, as siblings often are. They'd bike through empty parking lots and pretend that their family was no different from the ones on TV. Noah grew up, and eventually found himself in poetry. He was soft, no amount of pain could succeed in hardening him. He was soft, but also sad. As he grew up, he lost his ability to sleep. He'd stare at the ceiling until his eyes burned and the sun rose. So he exchanged ceiling for stars. The skies would sing to him, and he wrote the lyrics. His poetry whispered of universes and drifting in limitless skies. But he had limits. Because this fairytale boy was afraid. Of himself. He kept a lipstick his sister had forgotten in his room. He would look at it sometimes, and wonder why he was so afraid. His soul was light rain and crescent moons.

Next was Elliot. This boy grew up alone, but it was a good childhood. The forest was a sanctuary of peace and play. The forest was only his. As he grew up, music became his as well. School crushed his curious spirit with facts and equations, but he discovered music, allowing it to fill his fearful heart.

This was all his, if nothing else was. He had childhood friends, but his anger pushed them away. The unknown feelings he didn't want to face were tearing him apart. He didn't blame his friends for leaving, he wasn't even sure he missed them sometimes. He was angry, and sad, and tears would soak his pillow on nights when he felt more worthless than the leaves on the autumn ground. His soul was made up of sunlight turned green through the trees and guitar strings that cut your fingers open.

So these boys lived on. They both attended their normal school and normal classes, but they never saw the one person who could heal them. Until one day, they did.

All it took was a glance around the room. Noah sat at his small empty cafeteria table. He watched all the happy kids, with friends and a future. But just behind a crowd of people, was Elliot, another lonely boy. Noah's own loneliness pushed into him, and he stood up. He walked over, and sat next to Elliot.

They talked for a few minutes, fighting to overcome the awkwardness of small talk and the fear they felt. Finally, Noah asked Elliot to go for a walk. They skipped class for a glimmer of friendship. With earbuds and possibility shared between them, they walked.

Elliot went home, feeling content. But his parents heard he had skipped class. They expected more from him. They didn't see the sun and the strings. They didn't see him. And he screamed that he was made of pain and light, crying in the dark and running in a forest. He was wild, and he was not nice. He was not kind. He was not perfect. He had skipped class for a boy. But they could never know that.

So Elliot laid in his room, wondering why people hated pain. Pain meant you were alive. And oh, how alive did Elliot feel.

So the living, breathing, crying boy got up, he stood, opened his window, and climbed out.

When he straightened up on the dewy grass, his freedom echoed through his beating heart.

And he was running, socks hitting the cold street. He laughed wildly, raking his hands through his hair. The street lights lit up his path and his future. Because his future is now.

Elliot approached his forest, humming a song of freedom and home. He walked through the past he never forgot. He found a clearing, and Noah was there. It seemed it was meant to be. The boy made of cosmos was sprawled on the fallen leaves.

Elliot walked over to Noah and laid down without a word. Noah glanced at him, sparing a smile of galaxies, before looking back to the stars. Elliot studied Noah before shifting to face the midnight sky. Elliot had never noticed the beauty of the glittering night. He lost himself in the distance, until he felt a hand in his own. He grasped it tightly, an anchor from the endless night.

Sitting there, staring into the stars, holding hands with a boy made of galaxies. That is all he needs. That right there might be love. Right now, it's enough.