The night sky glimmered with dotted stars, scattered about like dust blowing in the wind. The clouds loomed overhead, casting shadows on the young man as he stumbled out of the shabby wooden building.
"-and never come back!"
He brushed his callused hand against his bloodied lip, ready to shoot back with a witty remark.
"Well fuck you too!"
He spat some blood on the floor, throwing down the empty beer bottle, watching it shatter on the hard concrete pavement in front of him.
"Didn't want to go back anyway," he muttered under his breath, stumbling along the path in his drunken stupor.
He continued walking as far as he could, which wasn't that far, tearing down those posters of him plastered along the walls. They seemed to stare at him cynically, almost demeaning, showing him this perfect version of himself that everyone now knew was a lie.
He crumpled up the damned poster, tossing it into some rubbish bin on the side of the street and almost collapsed onto a bench, sloppily pulling his cracked phone out of his pocket.
His eyes squinted as he tried to focus on the small words on his screen, and he eventually made his way to what he presumed to be his contacts and dialled the number he searched for far too often.
Ring...,
Ring...
"Wil?"
He heard the girl's soft and hushed voice travel through his speaker, her throat a little sore, which made sense considering it was nearly 3 in the morning, and she usually slept rather early.
"H-Hey Niki," He started, trying to hide his sluggishness, "could you pick me up?"
The girl on the end of the line sighed, and Wilbur could tell she was onto him.
"How much did you have to drink, Wil?"
Wilbur gulped, fiddling with the hem of his now blood and alcohol stained sweater.
"Not much, I swea-"
"Whatever just text me where you are and I'll pick you up," interrupted the girl, at this point she had grown used to Wilbur's late-night adventures.
"I'm sor-"
Wilbur's apology was interrupted by his roommate hanging up.
And so he sighed, lying there on that bench in the dark of night, waiting for his friend to pick him up.
He felt helpless.
He began to cry.
How was it that he let his life slip out of his reach just like that? He used to be adored by thousands of fans, surrounded by his friends. And even before that, he was a bloody hero!
He choked back a sob, but the tears rolled down his flushed cheeks, the memories flooding back into his head.
Why tonight? Why now?
Why was it that only that night did his childhood memories begin to arise in his mind?
Well, maybe it had something to do with that red streak of light that flashed about 70 miles away, on the other side of the country.
----
"I'm going to work now!"
"Alright honey, see you tonight!"
The door clicked shut and Phil was left alone in his apartment.
This was similar to most days. He did some freelance tech support but otherwise he usually just stayed at home and took care of the house, while his fiance went and supported them.
