The lights dimmed as the tall man in a tattered tuxedo rushed to find his seat in the elegant theatre. For months, he had been working the night shift in order to afford a single ticket perfectly aligned with center stage. As the curtain rose, he collapsed into his chair and ran his fingers through his windblown hair, a habit he had developed in his teenage years. A habit that made all of the girls swoon. All except one.
He looked around the ample auditorium replete with wonder and longing. It had been years since he stood on a stage, and he couldn’t help but miss the warmth of the spotlight that would burn into his perfectly tanned skin. He hadn’t gone to the theatre since his high school days, and felt out of place surrounded by artists and enthusiasts.
He came here for one reason and one reason only- to see her. A single spotlight revealed a single silhouette. The smooth figure looked like a cardboard cutout, perfectly edged against the harsh stage light. He couldn’t believe his eyes; was it really her? She, a star up on the stage, yet a star in his heart.  She, up on that empty stage, was the one he left behind.
Her petite figure easily blends into a crowd, but she’s naturally dominant when put on a stage. Her sweet and calming tone manipulates many, but her belt brings audiences to tears. She is by no means a ballerina, but she navigates the stage with fluidity and grace.
Watching her, he felt his youth coming flooding back. He felt alive watching her command the crowd. He felt pride; he was watching her live her lifelong dream.
One summer night, he promised they’d live their dreams together.

Long after she took her final bow, long after he stood cheering and waving, long after the exit of tearful theatre goers; he sat silently staring at the stage, remembering the past, remembering her.
Only when the janitor took center stage did he decide to return to the snowy city streets. He quickly slipped his dress coat over his shoulders and tucked his playbill into his pocket to keep it safe from the snow.
As he began walking, snowflakes fluttered gently onto his eyelashes, but nothing could blur the familiar silhouette he saw in front of him. There she was, expertly hailing a taxi, illuminated by a lonely streetlamp on the sidewalk. He ran to her, with the strength and intention he lacked during adolescence.
He shouted her name. Their brown eyes met, and her body stiffened. Memories of a lifetime ago suddenly rushed over her like a standing ovation from a full house. He stepped closer to her, and through his shallow breath he uttered, “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry for hurting you so long ago.”
She stared at him with wide eyes and shaking hands. From the million lines that flashed in her mind, not a single one seemed like the right script. Finally, she realized it was because their curtain had closed the minute he walked out of her life. All she had left to do was take her final bow. She whispered, “I’m sorry...but...I don’t believe I know who you are.” She glanced over her shoulder one last time; she knew there would be no curtain call this time. He could’ve sworn he heard her tearfully whisper his name into the wind. She exited the stage into the darkness of the night. Her curtain closed behind her, while his remained an open portal to the past.