„There once were two stars that didn’t want to live with those they called their family. There once were two stars that wanted something different than they had.”

There once was a star, deep down in the sea. He looked up every day, and wished to be one of those in the sky.

When he looked up every night, he could see the faint lights through the thick mass of water that surrounded him. From deep down in the sea, he could see the sky that was lined with stars. He watched, and never dared to sleep. The little star, surrounded by its siblings and its family, looked up and dreamed of something greater – of something bigger than he had. His desire didn’t include being deep down in the dark blue mass that usually had no color. He wanted to be one of those in the sky. One of those that were so bright every night. One of those, that were faintly glooming – sparkling. Those, who were up there their entire, never ending life. One of those, who were up there – forming weird patterns. Those, who had a white color and a name – who were nice to look at and not surrounded by animals that ate them. But the little star in the sea was – and he couldn’t tell if he was scared of being eaten or only envied the scars above his head – painted into the sky.

At first, when the little star living in the sea was born, he used to believe that he could go to the sky as well – that he would shine bright one day. It never happened – he was left alone in the dark sea that consumed his colorful presence. The presence, that wasn’t glowing but wanted to have a distinct color. Not blue – not a deep, dark blue that looked like the sea at night. Something, that made him stand out – something that made him one of those he wanted to be. One of those he wasn’t. One of those he desired to be. If he only could move and swim – swim to where he wanted to be. He wanted to leave – wanted to be met with the sky, lined with bright stars. He wanted to decorate the cold sky with them – but instead, he was caged deep down, in cold water, where no one would ever come to look for him. Where no could see him – and where no one cared about him, or gave him a name. Or a meaning. He envied those stars. He wanted to be like them.

There once was a star, high up in the sky. He looked down every day, and wished to be one of those in the sea.

When he down every night, he couldn’t see anything – there were no lights like those that surrounded him, in the big black mass beneath him. From high up in the sky, he could see the sea that was pitch black. He watched, and never dared to sleep. The bright star, surrounded by his friends and his loved ones, looked down and dreamed of the things beneath – of something else than he had. He wanted to leave the sky he was chained to – he wanted to fall down into the other sky, and fill it at least with one light that was dark. The desire, to help those stars down there – the stars that couldn’t glow, grew bigger – and he wished to be one of those for a faint moment in his long life. One of those that had a bright color. One of those that didn’t gloom. One without a name. Those, who were down there their whole life. One of those that didn’t form any constellations. And he couldn’t tell if he was scared of hurting himself while falling down or scared to leave the sky and see himself sparkling up there – even though he was gone. Ruining a constellation. He envied those without sorrow, deep down in the sea. If he only could fall down without burning – go down there where he wanted to be.

At first, when the bright star living in the sky started to exist, he wanted to believe that falling down wouldn’t hurt. That he would become one of those stars, living in the sea – surrounded by water and the calming waves. But it wasn’t like that: He saw stars fall and burn before they hit the surface. He didn’t want to end like that. He did want to shine on the dark sky beneath him – filled with stars that didn’t glow. He wanted to teach those other stars how to glow – wanted to show them, that their sky was too dark. And eventually, wanted to lose his glow – wanted to get a color, a bright one – one that made him look like the ocean. He wanted to leave – wanted to meet those deep down in the ocean – he wanted to go there, where no one saw him. Where no one cared about him. Where he didn’t get a name. Or a meaning. He envied those stars. He wanted to be like them.

There once was a star in the sea that let go of his chains. He rose. Instead of being met with the sky he wished to go to, he was met with death.

When he looked up every night, he saw another world. One, that wasn’t his – but one he wanted to enter desperately. And he figured out that, if he would let go of his chains and boundaries, of his friends and family – of his entire life deep down in the sea – maybe he would be able to meet those high up in the sky. Those above him – those that watched over him and always gloomed so softly whenever he watched them – they came and when morning arrived and he fell asleep, those stars swam away. They faded away – until night came and their sea turned dark again. Then, they came to visit again. They came, to show themselves in an incredible light – like those other lights that were there for seconds – like those things that people called fireworks. But they were much more colorful and louder, than actual stars. But faded as fast as those who resided on the sky – in the other sea. The sea, he wasn’t able to visit – because he would have to let go of everything, if he wanted to meet those above him – if he wanted to become one of them. If he wanted to fulfill his desire. If he wanted his dreams to come true. And so he did.

For once, the little star in the sea felt fulfilment in his life – and for once, he felt like he did something he always had to do. For once, he felt like he was doing something right – and with every bubble that rose and every metre he came closer to the rough surface of the sea he lived in, he felt more fulfilment. His imagination made him believe, that with every metre he was getting closer to the surface, he glowed more. But it was just the light of the other stars and the moon reflected on his in water covered surface. He would just focus on his imagination – he would trust his imagination for one – because in this moment, in the moment he came closer to the surface and closer to the other sky he wanted to go to, he didn’t care if it was getting colder and not warmer like he wanted it. He didn’t care if he made a wrong decision – and he wouldn’t care about anyone telling him, that he made a horrible mistake. Because he didn’t. He believed in his choices, and he chose to believe that he was doing the right thing – that he would be met with water that would cover his need for it. But he wasn’t. He was made with the cool air, the rough waves and the lack of water – and the last thing the little star from deep down in the sea asked himself, was: Why wasn’t he coming further? Why wasn’t he being met with the stars he wanted to be part of so desperately? Why? Why? Why did he only get to watch them from far away? Why?

And before his life ended, he looked to the stars above one time again. To the sea above him. Everything was a lie – and everything he wanted to be was slipping from his grasp. It was over – and he needed to understand that it would be. Forever. And he regretted it. Regretted his last choice – and regretted his last minutes, that found their end in silence.

There once was a star in the sky that let go of his chains. He fell. Instead of being met with the sea he wished to go to, he was met with death.

When he looked down every night, he saw a different reality. One, that wasn’t his – but one he wanted to be part of desperately. And he figured out, that if he let go of his chains and boundaries, of his friends and loved ones – of his entire life high up in the sky – maybe he would be able to meet those deep down in the sea. High up in another sky beneath his own. Those beneath him – those who didn’t take care of their sky, but always looked at him. He could only see them in a faint moment – when he faded as well and looked down at another sea – he would only see them for a faint moment – but he knew of their existence. And he knew, that those were his friends – the friends he could never see, because whenever he came back, they faded with the sea that slowly turned black. They became part of another sky – a louder one. Another sky. They hated to show them – so they hid, besides their bright colors, they hid. They did well – and they always did well. They were part of the sky he wasn’t able to visit – because he would have to let go of everything he held dear to himself – to meet those beneath him. If he wanted to be one of them. If he wanted to loose color – and his bright nature. And so he did.

For once in his life, the bright star felt contend with his life – and for once, he felt like he did something he desperately needed to do. For once, he felt like he was doing something right – and with every spark that left him – and with every metre he came closer to the rough surface beneath him, he felt more contend. He became brighter – started to become yellow, orange, red and then blue – started to look like a firework with every metre he got closer to the surface. He wouldn’t care what anyone else would tell him – he was doing the right thing. Even if it hurt now – even if sparks flew and he was losing his weight, it was alright. If this was, what it took to become a star in the other sky, he would accept it. If this was, what it took to fall down and fulfill his wishes, he would accept it. He saw the colors that covered him – that made him look brighter than before – fade and look different. His soft glow disappeared slowly – and with the glow that disappeared, his energy seemed to fade as well. The tiredness, the exhaustion he felt, it was incredible. Incredible unfamiliar, incredible weird. The cold air he was used to, hurt on the thing he could call his skin – his burned down skin. He never hit the cold surface of the water – but rather the ground, the sand – and he was so close to the ocean he wanted to go to, he didn’t believe that his life would end like this. Because it did end. It ended, when the last spark faded. Why? Why? Why? Why wasn’t he going to the sea – to the place where he wanted to go? Why did he need to die so close to the see – why did he even need to die, when he wanted to exist? The once bright star from the sky asked himself: Why did this need to happen? Why? Why couldn’t it happen like he wanted it to be? Why did he only get to watch the sea? Why?

And before his life ended, he looked at the sea before him one more time. To the sky next to him, that was no sky. It was a lie – and it would stay a blatant lie forever. It was over – and he wasn’t accepting that it was. Forever. And he regretted it. Regretted his last choice – and his last minutes, that found their end in silence. Death was a cruel thing.

There once were two stars, not quite alike. There once were two dead stars, meeting one night.

Those days had been over. The night after the once glowing star had arrived on the beach – the day, the dreaming star from the sky died, the dreaming star from the sea arrived shortly after. The two of them always had looked at each other – but upon laying there, in the sand of the beach, covered in dust, in sand and water, no one of them knew what it was like to arrive at the last destination of their life – and no one spoke a word. Because they couldn’t. There life was basically over – they had taken their last breath when they cut the last string that bound them to something. It had ended. Faster than anyone from them had expected it to. They thought, if they rose or fell, they would meet the sea or the sky they wanted to go to – but they didn’t. Gone. That was, what happened to them. They were gone and there was no way they would be getting back – they already left the world forever. There was no going back to their old life – they desired to leave it behind and so they did. Their life ended. It was over. Cancelled - until further notice that would never come. And that was why it was silent around the two of them that lay next to each other but couldn’t exchange a single word about their life. What a waste.

There once was a dead star from the sea that met a dead star from the sky.

There once was a dead star from the sky that met a dead star from the sea.

It wasn’t until days after, when instead of a star from the sea and a star from the sky, two transparent man sat next to each other – watching the ocean and watching the sky. Desiring to go back to where they came from, if they couldn’t have what they wanted to have. Their eyes never met. They never looked at each other, because they couldn’t see anything in each other.

For the star from the sea, there was a star from the sky laying where the boy was sitting.

For the star from the sky, there was a star from the sea laying where the boy was sitting.

Which was why they didn’t exchange words they didn’t know. Which was why they couldn’t speak to each other – or tell each other about their life. They were sitting in the sand – watching the waves and the clouds, listening to the birds above their head and the sand beneath their feet. But not to themselves or the other – they weren’t breathing, and everything they touched didn’t seem to register, that they touched it. That was, because they weren’t part of the world anymore. This was, because they weren’t part of the world they came from – they just looked at it. They could touch all they wanted, there wasn’t anything that would move, or budge – or do anything else. The cold breeze didn’t touch them, and the stones directly thrown at them – or at the sea – weren’t touching them either. They were flying – flying through them, but they certainly weren’t doing anything greater than hitting the sea.

There was the laughter of people that couldn’t see them – there were the stars laughing at them, probably. They both could feel it, that they were laughed at for their foolishness by their friends and family – but it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t ever meet again. Those, who laughed at them, couldn’t see their weirdly shaped ghosts that weren’t ready to leave this world, yet. Rather, they weren’t ever ready to leave. Watching those things they could still have was a better idea – existing somehow, until they had no intention in existing.

“Do you have a name?”, the star from the sea blurted out, still looking at the sea he left for the sky a few days ago.

“Is my name of importance, now, that my life ended?”, the star from the sky answered, looking at the sky he left for the sea a few day ago.

“I don’t think it is.”, the star from the sea said, his pale fingers combing through his almost as pale hair.

“Do you even have a name?”, the star from the sky asked, trying to grasp something with his long fingers, while the cold breeze rushed through his brown hair one again.

“Why would someone take their time and give something as worthless as me a name?”

“I don’t know. You look pretty, and I wouldn’t consider pretty things worthless.”

“Who would consider a star that looks like the water pretty? I have nothing that makes me pretty – or outstanding. I’m just living in the sea were thousands of me exist – and we basically never die.” His eyes zoned out onto the sea – looking at the waves that never touched him and looking onto the transparent water, that he once called his home.

“I would. I have nothing that makes me pretty either. I used to glow, really softly, and I used to light up one sky – but upon wanting to light up another, I died.” His eyes wandered onto the sky above his head again – and he wondered if he had the right to call the things above him his home – or the stars above him his friends. He had stopped being a star the moment he fell – and he would never be a star again. Stars were born to glow – not to have wishes or desire anything at all. But he was different – like summer and winter. Like all those things people tended to say, if they could get into danger.

“Sounds depressing. I wanted to leave the sea I was born in – and be painted on the other, above my head.” He sighed, as he was about to let his whole body fall behind, into the sand. It didn’t happen – he was bound to sit here for the rest of his life and not make a single mouth – only unnecessary inhaling of air to feel a bit alive. Still, it was air that killed him and it was air that he always would hate.

“It is depressing – as well as the thing you just told me. Happiness really is limited to people without dreams, isn’t it?”

“It almost seems like it is.”

And with all those bird passing above their head, the waves leaving them alone and the clouds not covering the sky at all, it felt like they were sitting in sand and discussing something completely else, when in fact they just were talking about their own misfortune. How the world had spun around for them, and around them – or not at all – and how the world ended for them without even thinking twice if it was a good idea to rise – or fall. It was a weird thing to talk about – or to even think of. Speaking things out loud with voices that weren’t their own, and with voices no one else could hear. They just were theirs. The voices they always had – in their own head, while talking to themselves when they had no one else to talk to. Because they had no one they could talk to – not even their brothers or sisters, or their beloved ones – they were the only ones met with this misfortune of believing. The misfortune of believing the things they planted into their own heads.

“How is the sky?”

“Like the sea, only brighter and without water.”

“Well…”

“How is the sea?”

“Like the sky, only darker and with water.” The star from the sea said, as he was asked to answer a question he really couldn’t put into words. Words that weren’t spoken by his but someone else voice – some person that lent their voice to the two of them that were having a chitchat of sorts – one that didn’t really need to find an end. Going on forever wouldn’t be all that bad. And never ending wouldn’t be all that bad either. But if it ever would end, it probably would end because neither of them payed interest anymore.

There once were two dead stars – from the sea and the sky – that became friends. They promised to meet again.

The day of their parting came, before they knew. Unlike the star of the sea, the star of the sky didn’t rot away – because it was made of stone. But the star of the sea was a living being, something different – which meant it, one day it would fade away forever. It tasted bittersweet – they wouldn’t have meet if they didn’t kill themselves, and did meet because they ended their life in the first place – and now, one of them was going to fade and leave the other alone. The one, that was made out of stone – that wouldn’t fade away and wake up as something else, as something new. He would stay and watch the sky, the sea and the birds. Left all alone, wasn’t it that what it actually meant if the one from the sea would fade away, leave him here? It would mean just that – nothing else.

With the time they spend dead, in bodies that weren’t theirs and no one could see, they became friends – or rather could say they did. They did take a liking in each other – even though they were something different entirely. Maybe it was because both of them desired to be what the other had been, had rather switched with them than they had died – but now, they didn’t regret dying. Because if they did, they would regret ever meeting. They didn’t regret meeting. They would never regret having met – even if the sea froze over or the sky fell onto the earth. It wasn’t going to make them regret killing themselves, even if it had been for something else entirely. But they would never reach what they originally wanted to, so why would they try now? It would make no sense – at all.

“About the thing you asked me when we first talked.”

“What thing?”

“Names.”

For a minute, it was silent again – the star from the sea looked puzzled and tried to think about whatever the other was talking about, while his pale skin almost looked transparent now. In fact, his whole presence did look transparent by now – but who would make a fuzz? Time was heading on and without taking care of yourself, you would fall victim to your rotten body. Even if it was a waste – a waste of time and a waste of a person that did have no bad intentions at all. To him, it felt wrong. And to the other, it sure must feel wrong as well – because he was the one, who desired to stay. Maybe it was because he was aware of the fact, that he was the only one that could disappear any second, or it was because he wanted to win something against a star from the sky – but it looked like even this time, he would lose. He felt sorry for him.

“What is it?”

“You can give me one, and I will give you one.”

“You want to give me a name? Are you serious?”

“Yes?”

“And why did you get this idea?”

“I just want something as a promise, as a proof of your existence, now that you begin to die a second time.”

A soft laughter emitted from his lips, and he felt contend once again. This was the same feeling he had, when he fell down from the sky – when he thought, he wouldn’t go to die. But his time, it was different in some sort of way. This time, he wasn’t the one to fear dying – he was perfectly fine, even if he was dead, he was fine. The other wasn’t. He would fade, while he would stay – and death would prove itself as not fair at all. Like life was.

“Kris.”

“What?”

“Kris. Your name.”

“Oh … if that is like that, you are Suho.” The star from the sky shouted out, with a big, idiotic grin on his face. And it made the other laugh – and forget what he sulked about the past few days. That no one had found them or taken one of them was a bliss – but the fact that he, who now had another name, would be all alone on the ground, wasn’t much of a bliss.

“Before you go.”

“Yes?”

“We will meet again, right?”

“If you mean right here, we will. I don’t know when, or how – but I will come and find wherever we are right now.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

There once was a lonely star, looking upwards onto the sky.

There once was a lonely star, looking downwards onto the sea.

There was a young boy – pale skin, blonde hair. The chances of being born like that where … what again? Highly unlikely, wasn’t it like that? His parents treated their kid with love – they cared about their son and they wouldn’t ever give him away. No matter what would happen.

When he was one, he didn’t know anything about the world. He had no interest besides looking into the water. Weirdly. Somehow, water wasn’t scary at all. Most of those his age would cry, search for help and grabbing at their parents, but this didn’t happen. Whenever his parents took him up and he was facing the floor from above though, he would start to cry and waddle and what not – he didn’t want to be lifted up, nor did he want to be away from water or the floor.

When he was two, nothing changed – besides the fact that his parents still asked themselves why their son was afraid of heights.

When he was three, he babbled enough things for everyone around him to understand. He seemed to enjoy himself even more, now that he could speak and communicate. Even if his sentences made little to no sense, his parents were always happy to hear something from their little son.

When he was four, his parents parted ways.

When he was five, he felt like he remembered something important for the first time. He didn’t know what it was, nor did his childish mind care about what it was. He had forgotten it seconds after he remembered it.

When he was six, he tried to run away from home to find something – he didn’t know what, but he needed to find something.

When he was seven, he did a lot of stuff that was wrong – he figured as much, even if he was a little kid that didn’t know what to do.

When he was eight, he felt uncomfortable climbing up anything at all – even more than before. And looking at the stars made his gut twist. He didn’t know why it was like that, but it had something to do with his weird behaviour before, didn’t it?

When he was nine, he remembered, that he needed to go somewhere. He didn’t know where, he just knew that he had to go somewhere – somewhere where someone was waiting for him. He didn’t know who.

When he was ten, he tried to run away from home again. He never saw his mother that heartbroken.

When he was eleven, he never listened to those memories that came back to him – that clearly were his. He just tried to forget about them – and he did. He did not need them, so he tried to throw them somewhere else – in the back of his mind.

When he was twelve, he forgot to remember. He had stopped to remember whatever he had promised long ago.

When he was thirteen, breathing ached and his throat started to hurt.

When he was fourteen, he was asking himself what he was doing and why he was trying to climb a tree when he had problems with his lungs, problems with heights and hated to look at the night sky.

When he was fifteen, he fell off a tree and made his mother worry about him even more – even if he told her, that she shouldn’t worry about him because he was doing what he had to do. Whatever that was.

When he was sixteen, time moved incredibly slowly and he did never spend more time in the shower than necessary.

When he was seventeen, he remembered again and this time, he didn’t ignore it. He really started to search for the place he had been at. He still did not believe his own mind – it must have been a crazy dream, because that place couldn’t exist anywhere.

When he was eighteen, he felt like sleeping all day and not doing anything at all. Whatever his mother and her new husband tried to tell him, it was not getting him out of his room anytime soon.

When he was nineteen, he once felt like burning down everything – but he didn’t.

When he was twenty, everything changed once again and he tried to find the place a second time – but he still couldn’t tell where it was or what it was.

When he was twenty-one, he was tired of himself and his stupid antics of trying to forget. He did, however, forget it again.

When he turned twenty-two, he finally found what he was looking for since half an eternity. Or at least it felt like that for him. Somehow. Eventually.

Instead of being met with the persons face, instead of seeing him sitting there and waiting, the star was gone. There was nothing – and there never would be anything again, he thought. He was gone and if he ever would come back, it would take the other years, wouldn’t it? How long did the lonely star spend alone, looking at the sky and the sea, above and in front of him? And where did he go? Did someone take him?

There once were two boys that finally met again.

He looked around, tried to find whatever he wanted to see – tried to find the star made out of stone. Tried to find his former self. But everything he saw was sand – and waves. There was nothing more than sand and waves – and the never ending cries of the birds that probably had been here twenty-one years ago as well. Why did so much time even pass? He had enough time to come here earlier, meet the person he missed so much earlier, but everything he really did do was ignoring it and trying to be something better than his own father. And he failed, horribly.

“What is it, that is bothering you?”

“The fact that I can’t find my friend.”, he said when he turned around, only to be met with a person two heads taller than himself, wearing a grin on his face. An idiotic grin.

“What was the name of your friend, if I may ask?”

“It was … I have no idea what it was, I forgot.”

“Your friends name was Kris. Suho, you are a ing idiot.”

“And you Kris, are a ing tease.”

“It is Yifan, not Kris.”

“And it is Junmyeon, not Suho.”

“If you say so.”

“Yifan, you are a ing tease.”

“Junmyeon, nice to meet you – too. How's the sea?"

There once were two stars that met – and there once were two stars, that met again as someone else.