Different people have different views in life. Our perspective varies and nothing is ever the same. It is unique and one of a kind.

Yifan’s view on life is different.

He thinks that the sunrise and the sunset signify beginnings. Silent nights are anything but lonely. There is no such thing as darkness, only the absence of light.

He believes that Luck has somewhat sided with him. He has a job and enough money to support his mother and for necessities. He has a house to go home to and he’s not left withering down the streets.

Lucky he is.

Or not.

There’s a right in every wrong and a wrong in every right.

With luxuries in his pockets, the consequences of the life he’s living in are placed on his shoulder without hesitation and doubt. Each time it gets heavier as each shoulder droops down little by little. But still he stands up and carries on because it’s his responsibilities.

Tick tock tick tock. The clock goes on. One, two, three, four more.

Exhaustion takes over his soul, lunging at him from behind. Fatigue is slowly catching on.

It’s so hard. So hard to go on.

Yifan is not carrying only his own weight but also those of the burden on his shoulders.

Hands are full. Load getting heavier.

Yifan is tired.

He finds himself envious of the contented smiles of the unknown faces that crowd the streets. They are clearly pleased with where they life is going. Opinions are not forbidden instead fully expressed and there are no strings tied to their arms and legs and no puppeteer is chanting words in their hands.

Yifan wants. Yifan yearns.

Sadly, privileges like that are non-existent in the world he signed up for. In the place where the lights choose who they shine on, everything is a competition.

Freedom is extinct and rest is a deprived blessing in his world. Puppeteers shouting commands that will benefit them the most rather than for the good of the puppets. There is no such things as democracy and the goal is simply one thing.

Money. Profit. Income.

Yifan doesn’t want that.

He feels the passion coursing through his veins but sometimes things get too overwhelming. Standing on a stage with nothing but only the will to perform with him in front of a thousand people is mind-wrecking.

Where people’s minds are judgmental, close-minded and clouded with fog. Unable to understand and comprehend.

Boundaries. Restrictions.

Yifan has reached his limits. He can’t take it no more. He just wants to be treated with equal respect and to be given deserved attention. To be able to have his thoughts expressed and decisions carried out without having to be manipulated.

Yifan is fighting for his – no their rights.

But sadly, they fail to see reality. Visions are covered with mists, opinions triggered by unverified statements. Words are sputtered venom and fiery debates arise.

They don’t see it. They don’t see it the way Yifan does.

For he is not who they are and they are not who he is.

Yifan can see it, there in the near distance. Bitter smiles are plastered, more feelings erupt. Maybe he was not mean to be this ‘Kris’. Maybe this was who he was destined to be.

Maybe he is just Yifan. Not Kris. Not duizhang. Not anything else.

The sound of a zipper closing cuts through the silence. Slinging a bag on his shoulder, he walks out slowly. Trying to put one foot forward each step he takes. His feet. His heart. Everything seems heavy.

He hears the screams of agonized fans. Mere words carried by the breeze and eventually meets his ears. Mixed and hybrid, reactions differ from one another. He’s seen it coming. Really.

They say to fly is to fall.

With taking the hands of Freedom, he sees another problem unfold. Mere fingers couldn’t count the number of people affected by his absence. People who believed in him are confused, close friends feel betrayed, some are even outraged.

But for once Yifan allows himself to treasure the freedom has fought for.

They say to fly is to fall.

And Yifan is willing to fly to be able to fall.