A Place With Moon and Stars
A Place With Moon and Stars
Her name is Yves, her smile is as dazzling as the moon, she has moles on her chest that are like stars in the night sky, there is a small constellation on her left arm, which he enjoys tracing with his fingers. She is the kindest person he has ever met, she has given him her heart on a silver platter, she has given him love in the purest and most genuine way. And he has taken very good care of reducing everything to ashes.
The first time he saw her she was still very young, she would have been about eighteen years old while she was adjusting her wardrobe at the foot of the stage, backstage where Jiyong was drinking champagne, since it was a public place and he couldn't smoke. He took a sip from his glass while he watched her from a distance; she was smiling broadly, she was holding a microphone in both hands while her makeup was touched up.
She is soon left alone, someone has started a countdown as background music, as he leaves his place in the shadows to be a little closer to her.
“Good luck,” he says.
Yves is startled, then she smiles. “Thanks.”
And it's the only interaction they have.
Time passes quickly, the nights are unbearable, he can't sleep. He gets drunk until he loses consciousness, in the morning he puts a cigarette in his mouth for breakfast, accompanied by a glass of chocolate milk to help his stomach endure the rest of the day. He gets frustrated, he remembers that smile, so he writes.
He writes poems that turn into songs, he writes about places with moon and stars, about a man loving so much a woman that he doesn't know very well, even if it's a given talent the ability to exaggerate the facts, and push things to the limit as a way of expression to this idea that haunts his head and has stolen his sleep; he has fallen in love.
From the world of dreams to reality in the blink of an eye, they have found each other again. In the blink of an eye that translates into months of agonizing effort, hard work from one country to another.
The moment has arrived, face to face in an interview on open television. From the UK to South Korea, everyone would be able to watch them together, and there was no better reward than that.
It was a subtle approach, there were more people in that place, but he took the seat next to her. She was dressed as a fairy tale princess, a metaphor he quite liked. She was wearing a very short dress that showed off her back with more small moles scattered in strategic places, she was wearing matching heels, her hair up short and platinum. She stole his breath, unaware of all those reactions that she was provoking to his body.
“Yves...” he thought aloud.
She turned to meet him, her gaze was bright, that smile again. God have mercy on his poor soul. Yves.
“Hi,” she said.
He smiled at her in the same way, and she has been looking at him for longer than necessary. He usually gets excited too quickly, but how can he ignore his heart. Soon the whole world sighs for the same reason; and it is that both flash the same energy.
« A smile that paralyzes the heart,
A call to your name in the middle of the darkness,
A song, without regrets, of the purest happiness,
Please don't break this illusion.
Don't hurt my heart (...) »
He has written in his letter pad later that night. He is an artist above all things, which means that he must capture that feeling in some way; he translates it into music. Another sleepless night, this time for a good reason.
⋆☁⁺˖✧༺☾✧ ˖⁺☁⋆
It's been a long time since then, maybe a year. Having isolated himself in his own home, he discovered a new passion. Painting. He's not good at it, but it entertains and steals hours of his time. He accompanies it with liquor, with love songs. He dyes a canvas blue, while spray painting her name on it. The television is on, more because of the background noise, more because of the illusion of company. There is just her image on the screen. He brings the glass to his mouth, sipping the wine as he puts some final touches on his work.
“Jiyong…” she says.
As if she had known him all her life, as if he had given her the confidence to call him that.
“I never introduced myself,” he whispered.
They have asked her a question, she takes some time to answer: “I am your biggest fan”.
It is the biggest surprise he has received in a long time. He has inadvertently drawn a line in the middle of his most recent work, he has inadvertently ruined it.
⋆☁⁺˖✧༺☾✧ ˖⁺☁⋆
He is a strange body floating in the universe, and she is a planet whose magnetism attracts towards its gravitational field to lose itself in an eternal dance in the cosmos—perhaps that has been going too far. Jiyong smoothes his outfit with the palm of his hands, he has stopped staring at his target, his reason for losing sanity. She is sitting on the other side, facing each other, separated only by a few meters, a distance that he quickly shortens.
“Is this your first time in Paris?” he asks her.
He brings out that side of himself that is reserved for special occasions, he has ignored the fact that for months he has not been able to sleep well, cannot concentrate on something that is not her, doesn't eat, doesn't exercise, he does not go outside to receive sunlight.
“It's my first time alone,” she replies.
There are no bright teeth accompanying that smile anymore, this time it was just her lips curving momentarily.
“Would you like to take a walk? I'm sure I can show you beautiful places, but maybe none of them compares to you.”
Her gaze shyly rests on the outside, anything foreign to that moment that is not the two of them.
“I would go with you to the end of the world if you asked me.”
And soon, in a place foreign to the world of dreams, under the moon and the stars they were together floating on a cloud of memories from the past, the moments they shared together long ago. How they used to wake up next to each other every morning, how the first thing he would see when he woke up would be that dazzling smile. How over the course of several years, Jiyong had invested every effort in getting her back. And how he had constantly failed, because just at that moment Yves left the place at a slow pace, waving to the crowd, smiling for the cameras, being a ray of light in that cloudy place.
He held his glass close to his lips, took a sip, prepared to go home.
⋆☁⁺˖✧༺☾✧ ˖⁺☁⋆
Falling in love with each other was almost impossible, they shared every moment of the day together, they flew great distances to be together. Hugs and kisses, nocturnal caresses, secrets whispered in the dark. Designer engagement rings, eyes that sparkled with love.
He wondered what state Yves was in, went trough the same questions. She would go up on stage to give her all, and then wonder if he had seen her at that moment looking so dedicated to what she loved? Would he have been detailing every second of the show, would he have listened to that song that was for him? Because he did pay attention to details.
Perhaps that thought was due to all the narcotics with which he had intoxicated his body, finding himself alone, helpless and depressed when he was supposed to be making a toast at his own wedding.
He felt faint, and it occurred to him that it was well deserved. He watched lights in the distance fading as he closed his eyelids, heard a bird sing, and everything went dark.
Long ago he felt the need to prove that he wasn't just another fallen star in the world they met, he was better than that. Long ago he had been motivated to be better than that.
Peace and tranquility for someone who has been battling with himself, a long process of healing from mistakes of the past. He missed her every day, as if a part of him had been ripped away.
« (...) Days of suffering that soon come to an end,
Like the sun after a rainy day,
A ray of light hanging through the window.
My sweet love, my greatest illusion,
From wherever you are,
I will listen to your voice, my beautiful song bird »
She is any woman with long hair walking down the street, she is any woman smiling in the morning.
Do you still think of me?
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