What's Wrong With Lonso?

1

   The Venice stars were the brightest they'd ever been the night they lost her.  The last memory Martin had of her was just moments before she left the house, she tucked him in and told him a story, just like she always did.  He longed for the moments she would sing to him and play with his curls, and he had no idea how much he'd miss them when she was gone.

    "What do you wanna do when you grow up, Tini?" she whispered to him.

   "I wanna be a star, Mamma, like Dean-o!" She had always pushed her kids to try to love the greats like Dean and Frank, but Martin was the only one who was ever partial to either. 

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah, and my posse'll be so star studded, people will be able to see us from a mile away!"

  "A mile!?" She shared his excitement. 

   "A mile! Maybe two!"

  Her laughter was music to his ears. "Alright now, don't get too excited. If you're gonna be a star, you can't do it for the fame. You have to do it because you love it, or else you want wanna do it." She poked him gently in the belly. "Stardom isn't a popularity contest. You do what you do because you wanna do it, not because people treat you accordingly. Understand?"

He was finally quiet for  a moment. "No, not really."

She smiled and stood. "You will someday, I promise." She leant down and gave him a kiss on the forehead. 

She leant on the doorway and smirked at her baby boy. He was so much like her, it was scary. From the tiny birthmark under his left eye to the passion he had for everything he did. They shared the same deep brown eyes with the most faint dusting of gold, a trait kindly bestowed by her grandfather, his namesake. She was so proud of everything he had become, and he was only seven!

"Goodnight, my Tini."

"Mooomm, stop calling me that!"

"Oh, so you're a big boy now?" Martin nodded frantically, smiling. "Alright, then in that case, goodnight, big, grownup, Martin."

"Goodnight, Mother." he said maturely.

"I love you, little boy. I love you so much."

"I love you too Mamma."

She sighed and left the room, gently shutting the door behind her.  A single tear slid down her face as she made her way to the shared bedroom of a 4 year old A and 6-month old Alonso. She gave them both kisses, and left her engagement ring on her daughters bedside table, then left. She grabbed the duffel bag by the door and made her way to the cab parked outside. The familiar face in the drivers seat made her feel just a bit better about what she was doing . She was scared, she was definitely guilty, but she was ready.

One last show.

sorry for dying for 2 months, back and (hopefully) better then eva. read and review thanksss