The Stars of Nothing
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The world was dark.

Aside from the sea of stars, some of them were obscured by clouds.

A moon-less night accompanied by silence.

I found myself in a stadium, resting on the upper seats made out of plastic—it was cold. All around me were faceless grey silhouettes, of men and women. Of varying ages and walks of life.

A spotlight shone on a tuxedo-wearing young man. As he made an entrance, the giant LCD on the air displayed his features.

Towards him, I felt envy for an unknown reason.

Walking towards a podium, he grabbed the mic. His pleasant, baritone voice echoed throughout the scenery.

"Ladies and gentleman...my regards for taking the time to come."

He followed with a solemn bow, ear-piercing applauses and claps erupted.

It was followed by empty, pretentious prologues that I could care less about.

What's so special about him?

I half-heartedly clapped, giving him a closer look. Soft white skin without blemish, perfectly proportioned face and body structure. The neatly combed hair of a Casanova.

I look at myself.

It was so dark, I couldn't even see myself, but with my sense of touch, I felt a lot of scars from the past. It emitted an unpleasant smell.

Especially the ones coming from the center of my ribs.

As of today, it still ached.

I want to cry, yet no tears came out.

It's only after the spotlight went off, my stupor broke down. I saw another me, holding the mic, standing beside the young man.

He had unkempt black hair and thin-rimmed glasses. His looks were plain, it's easy enough to forget 'bout him the next time. He wore a casual t-shirt and jeans. Nothing notable to speak of. A skinny build and a slightly bent back, giving a pushover impression

"Everyone. I'm just here to say that..."

Boo!

Before the other me could even finish, jeers and boos erupted all over the Stadium.

He was unable to put up with it. Returning the mic and walked away, he seems to lost all care.

In his trail was a black puddle of blood. It didn't linger for more than a few seconds.

The display's only centered on the young man. He's treating the other me like air.

As he picked up the mic, I began to think 'bout going home.

"Ladies and gentleman."

I was about to stand up and leave. In this darkness, no one will notice.

"Sometimes, the one speaking, is more important, than what he speaks."

...what?

I didn't expect him to say that.

He made a stylish turn, enveloping himself in a large cape...

He turned into the other me.

"This is my true self."

Another round of jeers and boos filled the scenery, so loud, I had to cover my ears. The flurry of objects hurled into the stadium. In his escape, the spotlight followed him wherever he went.

The objects became more and more violent. I could even hear gunshots coming.

"Wait! I said wait! It's only a lie!"

There's an explosion of colorful gas beneath him. He turned back to Mr. Casanova.
...but he's all bloodied and battered. Many of his body parts were mangled flesh.

"You're a fake! Impostor! The real one won't do something like this!"

"Give us back the real one!"

In the close-up display, I could see the young man's dejected look.

The lights in his eyes were gone.

In his dying breath, he whispered something only I could hear.

"...that one, is really my true self..."

In his death door, the spotlight was off.

A few seconds of silence before the light restarted, circling the audience one by one. Those with lights above them began to form beautiful and handsome faces. Their antics flowing with charm and grace, also a hint of fakeness.

An ominous voice filled the air.

"Now then, who will be the next Star?"

I know from the start, it wasn't me.

The stadium was gone. I sat on a quiet grass plain, looking at a ray of a shooting star.

What is a Star?

It was said, the distance between the light and our world were millions of light-years away.

The real star might as well be dead. What we saw was the reflection of its past glory.

It's also a common thing to wish upon a star.

But what's the point if it's already dead?

Well, it's the thought that counts.

Before the falling star vanished into the horizons, I wished for, "Nothing."

In a short moment, a huge explosion enveloped the area—sweeping me along.

...and everything went silent.

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