He took center stage, never once missing his mark. When the hot stage lights and the eyes of the audience where upon him he was a different person, a better person.

There was no way for him to describe how he felt about the stage to another living being, but he knew that without the stage he would die just as sure as the world would suffocate without the sun. On stage he had no faults that he was unaware of and there was no plot that was unknown to him.

The stage was predictable and spectacularly unpredictable.

He felt no nervousness when the show began, he felt dead calm, unlike the female lead who was in the dressing room orally unloading the contents of her stomach. Other persons became nervous. It was not so for him. He lived for the stage, to be on stage.

Though his school’s theatre troupe was fantastic and though they were undefeated in all of the competitions they attended the school hardly recognized them. When ever his theatre troupe’s plays were opened to the public the auditorium was never even filled halfway. But still there were loyal fans and those fans followed him about relentlessly.

They believed that he was the same person on and off stage. They thought that at all times he had that enigmatic air about him. They were both right and wrong.

They gave him their complete admiration but though he acknowledged them politely, he never really paid them any attention. He had no great love for fans. He only loved the stage.

The hot lights of the stage flashed on and he took center stage, never once missing his mark.