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Stars
written by Dwight Roussel Glenn M. Labilles // tried my hand at writing.
(The scene is set at a bench by the bay)
“Did you bring the story?” she asked.
“Yeah…” I answered. “You?”
She replied with nervousness evident in her voice, “Yeah… but–– yours first.”
“Okay… I named the characters after us. This story is called Stars.”
The silence was deafening. The calming hymns of the sea and the silent roars of the night echoed in a scintillating discourse of emotion. I await.
I gaze innocently at the rare display of cosmic art scattered unevenly perfect across the heavens. It was the utmost balance of it all that made it significant. They shone brightly as yet again I await.
It was almost time. The ship bellowed repeatedly its call whilst white smoke began to puff. No longer I await.
From a distance I greet her with a smile. The way I felt was unexplainable. My heart beat faster than it has ever before while at the same time and for a brief moment, it also stopped.
With each passing step, she came closer.
I couldn’t help but wonder… What if?
You know I could tell a million things about this girl, her hair, her style, her lips, her preference in music… but I could never tell what or how I exactly feel. It’s confusing, too complicated. Complicated in a way that if I did, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
So there she was, wearing an evening dress accompanied by a thin layer of cloth acting as a veil to sheath her from the cold evening breeze. And even in pale blue, in my eyes she shone brighter than the most compact of stars in the sky.
She was the center of my attention.
As she came even closer I remembered a quote from Frederick L. Collins which said; “There are only two types of people in this world, those who come in the room and say “Here I am!” and those who say “Ah there you are!””
“Ah there you are!” She exclaimed, walking merrily towards me. “Sorry I’m late.”
She seemed nervous. I could tell whenever she was nervous. She’d always do this thing with her nose. I can’t describe it but it was cute.
“Sorry again, I really couldn’t decide on what to wear.” She beamed.
I bespoke with the most unflattering grin, “Cute! But why though, you didn’t have to dress up for me.”
“I just wanted to look—“
“Beautiful. You look beautiful.” I interrupted.
She chuckled, glancing upon me innocently. “Shut up.”
I quipped. “Do you know the feeling that you’re so anxious, so excited for something to happen that you couldn’t wait for it to begin?”
She nodded, “Huh?”
“What I was trying to say was that you aren’t late. I was just early.” I said, while placing my hand on her shoulder. “I guess I couldn’t just not come early you know?”
Then as she turned around, she showed me something beautiful, her smile. She grabbed me by the hand and ran, well… practically frolic towards the boat screaming, “Let’s go!!!!”
(Back to reality, they were sitting on the bench by the bay)
Michelle remained silent.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
With an eerie lackluster answer she replied, “The story seems familiar, that’s all.”
It seemed as if she was a little stepped out but at the same time she had the urgency to listen. I could tell that something was wrong. It seemed as if something was going to happen.
I continued.
And so our night began. It was all too surreal. I felt like I was Leonardo DiCaprio and she was my Kate Winslet … except without the iceberg and the dying of course. Anyways, there we were, having a fancy dinner on a fancy boat filled with fancy people just enjoying the night.
“Tell me…” she uttered.
I was piqued, “Hmm?”
“Why…” she returned feeling a bit uneasy. “Tell me why did you agree to come?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She explained, “I mean, this isn’t exactly an affordable trip and your parents… they aren’t exactly the most down to earth people I know when it comes to things like this.”
“Because I enjoy being with you.” I answered her, placing my hand above hers. “I would gladly spend every last penny in my wallet just to spend time with you, even if it meant walking home.”
She was speechless, gripping my hand tighter.
“Besides, my parents understand what’s important.” I grinned as I gazed deeply across to her. “And trust me, you’re important.”
(Back to reality)
“What made her so special?” Michelle asked.
I commented, “Because I like—“
“You?” she quipped.
“Ah I mean, because he likes everything about you?” I answered.
Again she asked, “About me?”
I irked, trying to cover up my mistake in fear of her finding out how I truly felt. “I mean… he likes everything about her… ANYWAYS…”
Any time spent with her was magic. We may not notice it but, time literally flies when we’re together. Whenever we talked, whenever we joke around, the clock goes 360. So at least for once, I could truly say we had chemistry. Everything about her, the way she talked, the way she smiled, her laugh, her voice, and even her little mannerisms, everything was perfect.
Michelle put out the cutest most subtle laugh. “You know, you really are something.”
I asked her looking confused, “Something?”
“Yes something!” she said. “Different.”
“Oh well then! You’re something too!” I returned, pinching her cheeks. “By the way, have I ever told you, you look beautiful tonight?”
She joked, “Just tonight?”
“Noo!!!” I answered nervously. “I mean you’re always beautiful. I think you’re—”
“Stalker!” she exclaimed, pointing avidly towards me as the people began staring.
Embarrassed, I tried to persuade her, “Sshhh people are starting to stare!”
Again and again she yelled, garnering more attention to their table, “Stalker!”
I panicked. Hurriedly I covered her mouth with both hands. “Sorry for the disturbance people. I am not a stalker. I just stare at her every time I see her. Because you know… she’s pretty.”
“Stalker…” a man from the other table blurted.
“Nevermind…” I murmured as I sat down and proceeded to eat my dinner. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Laughing heartily, she placed her hand on my shoulder in spite, “You stare at me whenever I walk in the room? You’re such a stalker.”
“I don’t stalk! I gawk. There’s a difference!” I yelled as people yet again stared.
Behind the massive embarrassment I got that night, what I said was true. She really was mesmerizing. It doesn’t matter what she wore or how she fixed her hair, she’s beautiful as is.
And even though she is who she is, Michelle never wore any make-up nor did she wear anything too extravagant and flashy. She was just simple… attractive. It was the feeling when I felt like I wasn’t just attracted to her physically but to who she was primarily. To the point when she even manages to the most mundane small talks worth listening to.
I feel like a fish on a hook.
(Back to reality)
Inch by inch she slowly scooped over to me. “Why does the guy like this girl so much?”
“Maybe because sometimes you just meet someone that you know you want to be with… you have to be with. Even if you know that it could never happen. For it’s only and will always be, one sided.”
Michelle grew silent. “Go on.”
Soon enough, we finished dinner and went on to mingle with the other guests. There weren’t many people of our age group there. Most of them there in fact were married couples, some even brought along their children. But as many as they were, we only got a chance to talk to a few, there was of course, Carl the Manager, Michael the waiter, and if I remember correctly, there was also a kid there named Alvin. But in the end, they were all just random faces in the crowd. Only one person mattered to me that night. And it was her.
The minute I got out from the washroom, she grabbed me and dragged me along yelling, “Come with me!”
She brought me near the edge of the deck and sat down in the middle of the aisle.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
She replied whilst pointing towards the sky, “Look.”
I slowly sat down beside her as I gasped into the beauty of the cosmic, “It’s beautiful.”
This was the moment where both of us fell silent. Until—
“What is love?” Michelle looked to me in question.
Stunned, I was short for words.
“What is love?” she asked again.
With a deep breath I answered, “I’m not really sure. But for me it’s when you feel that you can go into any lengths with a person.”
I continued, “ I guess, love happens when you know that no matter what, you’d always have that someone with you. It’s like when you meet that person, at any given point in time, you instantly know that you’d be willing to spend every waking moment, sharing absolutely anything and everything with just that one single person.””
Michelle gazed fervently above. “I read somewhere that love can be compared to stars.”
“How so?” I asked.
She returned, “Because even after a star dies its shine is still visible for years after it’s gone ( From Paz Marquez Benitez). Just like love, once you feel it for another person even if it doesn’t end well, you’d know in your heart that it’s still and will always be there.”
Then I turned to her and looked her straight in the eyes, “Really? Then I wish perhaps someday, somewhere out there, out of a gazillion stars, I find one that never dies.”
“Then what?” Michelle asked me.
I smiled, “Then I’d give that star to you.”
Again for a moment, we fell silent. But at that particular fragment in time, I could see her expression change. It was as if Da Vinci himself painted the biggest smile on her face.
“What do you look for in a girl?” she catechized.
“What do I look for in a girl…” I paused and pondered. “I guess I just want someone who’d be there for me no matter what. How about you? What do you look for in a guy?”
She returned, giving to me the most heartwarming look along with the most heart wrenching smile, “Someone like you.”
I gazed upon her desirously, placing once again my hand above hers grasping it tightly.
(Back to reality)
She began clenching her hand as tears began falling down her face.
“What’s the matter?” I asked her.
With sadness in her, nodding slowly as her body shakes in despair “Nothing.”
“Should I continue?”
She replied only with a nod as she gritted her teeth.
We spent the rest of the time staring blankly at the sky as soon the 3 hour cruise came to an end. The night couldn’t have gone better. I stood and held her up as she grabbed me by the arm while we walked. We left the boat wanting nothing more than each other’s company wishing that the night would never end.
That short time with her felt like an eternity of ecstasy. As cheesy as it may sound, I think this is what they call “love drunk”.
A short distance we walked… walked until we reached a bench by the bay. We sat down as I ask myself once again, “What if?”
She wiped her tears, looking down only on the ground. “What happened next?”
“Nothing! That was the end. That was my story.” I answered.
With a relatively null expression, again she asked, “That was it? What was the ending?”
“There was no ending.” I said, placing for the last time, my hand above hers except this time it’s for real. “This is the ending. We are the story. And what happens next depends on what happens now with us.”
In a matter of seconds, everything changed. She slowly took my hand placing it on her chest and spoke only a single word. “Sorry.”
She walked away leaving behind her story entitled “Moving On”
My heart was broken.
