Within a time span of three minutes, I am the star. I have all eyes, all ears. All of them.
No moment in life can compare to the ones on the stage, but somehow, somehow on this bitter night, behind the thousands of stars that beam towards my face, making me their own. He is there.
He looks like he’s in trouble.
Like he doesn’t want to be here.
His black coat and dark blue jeans almost blends in with the galaxy of people in front of me.
For the entire time I am the star. I have all eyes, all ears. But not his.
As I can see a tiny light from his hand I know he has his phone. Slowly he brings it towards his ear and the expression on his face darkens, it darkens to the point where I can no longer see his bright glow in the audience.
I am the star. I have all eyes, all ears.
In the last thirty seconds before I burn out. He is there.
He is there in the front row on his phone.
His face. No longer darkened.
He is another. Another of my stars. Another in my galaxy.