In a slow and groggy state, he walked over and closed the blinds. His lips were pushed into a deep frown.  A frown that didn’t leave him as he walked over to his dresser and slowly pulled out a shirt. Without comment but with great slowness and no care he put on the shirt. He looked at his blinking self in the mirror before he removed the shirt and placed it on the floor. He walked back over to the dresser and found a second but similar shirt. Out of requirement, he put on the shirt. He stared at himself in the mirror. The room encapsulated in a dreadful silence. His eyes neither blinked, nor his face changed in expression. No sounds left his lips as he drudged through the empty room. He held a pair of jeans out. He blankly stared, before dropping them. Much like with the shirts he pulled out a second pair that looked similar to the first. Out of necessity he put on the jeans and looked himself in the mirror. He put a backpack over his shoulder and walked out the front door of the single room apartment.

Why does he always seem so depressed behind the locked door?

+++

I was jotting notes down in my notepad as his door opened. He was smiling as bright as he always does. “You always going to wait out here for me?” There was a slight laugh behind his comment. It came off as something that even practicing for years wouldn’t be able to achieve.

“Always, Aster. Always.” I returned a slightly forced smile tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Then let’s get going, we can’t be late for classes!” He darted ahead of me with a heartful laugh as I lagged behind. He jumped over the second-floor railing without regard for his safety. I shouted after him, “Damn it, Aster! You have to take care of yourself.” All that answered my worry-filled shout was his infectious laughter. This scene was the same every morning. The dialogue may change but Aster himself never did.

His sprint didn’t slow for anyone or anything. He jumped over walls, ran across lanes of traffic, and weaved through bodies without regard.

Why can’t he for one-second care about himself?

+++

At school, he greeted everyone with a smile. His popularity was evident as they all returned his smile. No one made a snide remark, or even ignored his presence. Everyone was infected by his actions unable to feel hatred. I walked up and stood next to him, “You seriously need to stop doing that! You are going to get hurt one of these days.” I berated him for his continuous choice to take the dangerous path to school.

“But it is so much fun!” He countered his arm wrapped over my shoulder. That damned infectious personality to where I couldn’t find the will to be angry.

I could only watch him stride down the hallways like he owned them. The looks given by the onlooking students told volume to the validity of that statement.

“Rae come on!” That voice filled with happiness.

Why can’t he for a second accept my place?

+++

Top of the class, only for split moments allowing his head out of the textbook. These split moments were from teacher questions or to ask questions of his own. He placed himself front and center while I trudged to the back shadowed corner. 

Why can’t he for a second not be the best?

+++

The final bell had rung, but he was still king. An appearance you would be hard-pressed to find fault with, included with the role of being Football team Captain.

With the final whistle blown he was swarmed without hesitation by the cheerleaders. 

He put on his trademark smile and let out hearty laughs to every one of their comments.

Our eyes would connect for a passing glance before he slowly escaped the swarm. The wait was never long but always chilly up there alone.

But every walk home made it worth it.

Why can’t he for a second not be so amazing?

+++

Only when the door closed behind him did night's chill set in. The sun only then set.

Why can’t he for a second know the truth?

---

I left my room to find her standing there like every day before. Her head in her notebook but her innocent eyes looked up at me. The smile that covered my face wasn’t fake, she brought this side out of me.

I wanted her to live a happy life so I tried to force her out of her reclusive shell. Listening to her sweet voice berate and worry about me was only an added benefit of the trade.

She never seemed to budge though, she only seemed to interact with me.

Why can’t she for a second reach higher?

---

As I walked through the halls greeting everyone that passed she was always a few steps behind me, hidden in my shadow. The few times she came up to me and out of my shadow was when I was alone but the moment a soul would appear she was gone just as quickly as she came. It hurt me to see her that way. I just wanted to hear her lecture me more or pester me about anything. I just wanted to spend time with her. To hear her voice that brought me out of dark times.

Why can’t she for a second be the best?

---

In the classroom, she always made her way to the very back, hidden amongst the crowd. I would turn back to see her head down rhythmically rising and falling. I couldn’t see her face but I imagined it to be insanely peaceful. ‘Stop preaching to me, to take care of myself when you don’t do the same!’

I became more meticulous in my note-taking knowing she would need it.

Why can’t she for one second take care of herself?

---

During practice, she sat among the empty bleachers waiting for me. She never complained, she never mentioned my dallying, she only sat there in silence. Her head in her notebook and lips in a frown. I wanted so badly to pull her out by the arm and force her to interact with the world.

I wanted the world to see her how I see her!

Damn it, Rae!

I would trade every single second of this away if it meant your smile!

Come on, smile!

Take your head out of the notebook and look around you!

Why can’t you for a second be yourself!

---

As the door shut behind me, the world went dark, the light of my life blocked by a solid door.

The smile always on my face fell to a frown.

Why can’t she for a second know the truth?