I promise to write shorter next time

He walked at a brisk pace in the evening glow, head down, keen to shut out the news. It was everywhere: newspaper headlines, social media, text messages, the vicious gossip of strangers as he stood in the crowded bus. Did you hear about it? Vanished, just like that! Pity, I've always been a huge fan. Maybe she committed suicide. Depression, who knows. Does she do drugs? 

And these people call themselves her fan, ever ready to spew toxic allegations instead of panicked concern at their idol's disappearance. She talked about it before, with him, when he raised his fears about her potential fame. She laughed at the prospect of what she dubbed "celebrity immorality" and dismissed it. 'Besides, I don't think I'll ever be that famous.' 'I think you would.' 'Even if I did,' she said, touching his cheek gently, 'I won't let it change anything.' He closed his eyes. They don't know her, he thought to himself.

Maybe she ran off to meet her rich businessman lover. She has a rich businessman lover? Well, don't they all? 

But does he know her any better? He looked ahead, stoic; his mind was a storm. He knew he was no longer welcome in her life - that much she made clear by her distance all this while. Cut him off so abruptly and changed her number, just like in the song he was currently practising. He so badly wished that she asked him to wait - of course he would - or said hi once in a while, or at least a proper goodbye. But no, the last thing he heard from her was but a hurried text: Can't talk now. See you when I see you. XO 

Probably a hint that she wanted him out of her life.

It's just a ploy to attract attention and boost sales. How else would she hit the headlines? See, it's working. 

"Shut up!" he yelled at no one in particular as the bus approached the stop, and stepped off before they could start gossiping about him too. Move on, start over, stop caring: that was all he had to do.

It was at that moment that his phone rang. An unknown number.

The Final Act?

It has definitely been awhile since I written any sort of fiction, it does not help when most of my curriculum revolves around shorthands as well as jargons. Do keep this up, makes life interesting.
______________________________________________________________________________


There she was, on centre stage; no less than 40 thousand fans showed up across the globe for her final act of the tour. 

“Encore! Encore!” chanted the crowd as she finished her last song for the night. Her performance has been flawless; she should be happy but as she sang the last word, tears started rolling down her cheeks. Ignoring the roar of the crowed who demanded for more, she mumbled “I’m Sorry” and left to the backstage where she locked herself in her private dressing room.

An hour passed, the manager knocked on the door, no reply. He knocked again, no reply. This was unlike her. Sensing something went wrong; the manager opened the door only to find a note on the dressing table.

There were no addressee, the manager put on his reading glasses and the note read:

                “I’m sorry, I have to go
                                             -XO ”

He looked around the room, no signs of her, no signs of her luggage, and no other trails besides the note. 

She has vanished.

Secret (part 2)

In his heart, he dreams of settling down with her.
He dreams of a big house, by the seaside, where they could enjoy the refreshing smell, and the prisitine white beaches.
Then having a little girl, or a boy perhaps, with eyes as captivating as hers.
He dreams of growing old with her, where they could spoil their children, grandchildren and (hopefully) great-grandchildren.

He dreams of looking back and finding her presence.
He dreams of her looking back with tired, but familiar eyes.
He dreams of her hands clasped together in a semblance of prayer.
He dreams of stepping forward and bringing her into an embrace.
He dreams of placing his hands on the small of her back.
He dreams of her leaning into his strong, indomitable frame.
He dreams of her tip-toeing.
He dreams of the touch of her lips touching the heat of his neck.
He dreams of her breathing in the air of a new beginning.
He dreams of her whispers small quiet words there in the open.
He dreams of hearing her and smiling.

If only things could be this easy.

This was something he feared for years and continues to fear to this day.
Her success and subsequent fame on the world's stage came with a price.
A heavy price they have already paid, a price they still have to pay, such that they could not be together just yet.