Lights Up - Prinxiety [COMPLETED]

Chapter Three

Patton eventually went back to work, so I decide that I'd go explore the city a little bit. I had a day to kill before I had to start working here.

I pick up my cup to drink what's left of the delicious beverage and toss it into the trash can on the way out. The city's still bustling outside, not caring that I've just gotten a job, not caring that I may be alright now. It never cares, and maybe that's something I should learn to do. If I didn't care so much when I was younger, perhaps I would've have been so damaged by the comments and abuses of my peers and mother. Maybe I'd be more stable now.

There's nothing I can do about that now. The past is the past, and now I'm here. I need to live in the moment and focus on being here.

Billboards flash, ads roll by for practically anything you can imagine, taxis honk their horns as I walk by them on the sidewalk. It's all too much. It's all way too much, but it's my life now.

With a sigh, I continue my way through Time Square, trying to get a feel for how this city works. An ad catches my eye, making me look up at the giant billboard that was displaying an advertisement for a new show that was opening in a week. I look at it thoughtfully as the silhouette of a young man appears on the screen. Perhaps they need help running the sound board, or the lights?

I shake my head. It's very unlikely that a show opening in a week has any need for a new techie; even if they did, they'd have no reason to hire someone with no experience in Broadway.

Putting on my headphones, I make my way to Central Park. The massive park would be a breath of fresh air after a long walk through the tall skyscrapers of the city. They felt like they were caging me in, preventing me from seeing the calming sky and making my lungs feel constricted.

I let out a sigh of relief as I reach the park, seeing seemingly endless amounts of green. I couldn't hear the sounds of the cars and people with my headphones on, allowing me to enjoy the peace of the park.

A song plays through my headphones, and I recognize it instantly. It was Collar Full from the Panic! At The Disco album, Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die. My heart swells; this song always made me happier, and long for the feeling of love. However, I've never truly experienced it, not even on a platonic level. My mother certainly never loved me, and I never had any friends, let alone boyfriends. That's not to say I didn't want one.

My gaze scans my surroundings and lands on a couple. They're sitting together on a bench with ice cream, giggling and blushing at each other as they talk and flirt. One points out that the other has some of the sugary treat on their lips and leans in to kiss them sweetly.

I avert my eyes, feeling as though I was invading a touching moment between the two. I've never had anything like that.

With a sigh, I walk out to the grass and lay down on my back, imagining a different life. In this life, I had a loving set of parents that supported me. They encouraged me to pursue theatre, to find love. My classmates all enjoyed my company, and I had a few friends that I'd never trade anything for. I was a high school actor, and I got spotted by a talent scout at one of our main stage performances. I became a Broadway sensation, and today was my day off. I was lying here beside my loving boyfriend, who came to see me in every show if he wasn't involved with it in some way. We met playing romantic interests in one of my first big shows. They always say that show-mances don't last, but we've never been more in love; the engagement ring on my finger proves that. We've never been happier.

I subconsciously move my hand down to clutch his, it falling on the empty grass beside me. The feeling of happiness I got from the dream life I had disappears instantaneously. The absence of the hand I'd wanted to hold reminded me that it had just been an idea.