They looked up at the night sky, where light was speckled across the vast screen of darkness.

She pointed at a group of stars.

 

“Sunggyu, look. The Orion.”

She smiled at the constellation.

 

 

That smile is brighter than any star.

 

 

“Constellations are absolutely beautiful, don't you think?”

 

He frowned.

 

“I… I don’t get it, though.”

 

“Get what?”

 

He looked at the Orion, a small sigh escaping his lips.

 

“Constellations.”

 

She turned to him with a slightly puzzled expression.

 

“What’s not to get?

  They’re patterns formed by prominent stars that seem to be in the same space as we see them from Earth.

  They’re patterns by stars in the night sky that are recognized all over the world.” 

 

His frown deepened.

 

“But who defines which star is connected to another, and how?

  Who has the right to?

  I mean… I can just re-draw the lines of a constellation into something completely different, to whatever I think it can be.

  It would technically still be right, because the possibilities of each star and the stars surrounding it are endless.

  I could join two constellations together as one and call it whatever I wanted it to be, like ‘Orange’ or ‘Milkshake’ or something else.

  I could join up all the stars in the sky, even.

  I would call it…”

 

He faltered, suddenly conscious of her intense stare.

 

“What would you call it?”

 

“Nothing.” He turned away, resisting her keen gaze. “Forget it.”

 

I would name the whole sky and all the stars in the universe after you.

 

 

It was silent for a while, but Sunggyu’s head was still full of noise, sounds, thoughts, feelings, conflict.

 

He had started something, something that nagged and tugged at him from the depths of his heart.

 

“It’s unfair,” he murmured, breaking the silent spell.

 

“Constellations.

  They’re unfair.”

 

“... Why?”

 

“All the constellations.

  All those bright stars.

  The prominent ones.

  The ones people take notice of.

  The ones people group together as pretty patterns in the night sky.

  They’re stealing the spotlight, leaving the smaller ones out, the ones which people never specially look out for.”

 

He raised his head to the sky once again, and pointed.

 

“Look at that little star, there.”

 

“It’s… really small.

  I hardly noticed it.”

 

 

You hardly notice anything.

 

You hardly notice me.

 

 

“But it’s still a star. It’s still a part of the sky, a part of the universe.

  Now look here, and there too.

  All of them decorating the night sky with all that they have, even if it doesn’t seem like much to the people down here.

  They’re the little stars.

  They never get attention.

  They’re neglected.

  There’s no one with a special marker or pencil or paintbrush to draw special lines to them, to link them with the other, brighter stars, all because they’re iiinsignificant and small and unimportant and worthless and they will never measure up to the others and no one will notice them and-”

 

He stopped, drawing in a short, pained breath.

 

She sat a little closer to the man beside her.

 

“But you notice them.”

 

She rested her hand lightly on his.

 

“Like you said before, draw your own lines.

  Let your mind be your guide, let your fingers be your paintbrushes, and let the night sky be your canvas.

  You can link everything together in a beautiful picture of stars.

  All kinds of stars.

  Big or small, bright or not.”

 

He turned to her, his eyes wet and dark.

 

“I notice them, yes.

 But the thing is… do you?”

 

There was a pause.

 

Her hand settled onto his just a little more firmly.

 

“Maybe I’ll start noticing them now.”

 

 

Both of them looked up at the night sky, where light was speckled across the vast screen of darkness.

Some seemed bigger and more prominent than the others, while some were barely visible.

 

But all of them seemed to shine brightly and beautifully as one big picture, to two certain people stargazing from below.