If people were mistakes, then you’d be my favourite. Because, darling, you’re shining so bright, and they like to shoot the things that shine. I’ve got a bit of that stardust, and I’m the luckiest one in the world.

So I’m sorry for being shot down too.

+++++++++++++

“I’d very much like to curl in a ball and die.”

I stared at him. I could always tell when he was upset; his voice would get all British-like, and his speech would turn old. His hair was ruffling slightly in the breeze, but not by much; no, it had a touch too much product in it to do that. Also, the dab of glue his younger sister had placed in his shampoo was assisting in that.

“I mean. Just look. There’s too many people here for one to breath. There’s about one hundred below us, and, in another second, there’ll have been another two hundred that passed. Busy streets, small people. So one life shouldn’t matter that horridly, right?”

His eyes are silver. Not blue, not grey. Actually, scratch that. Right now they’re grey because he’s wearing that grey shirt of his that perfectly matches his eyes.

“Forgive me for rambling, but also take a moment to consider my theory. If there are this many people, billions of them, then how is one life supposed to affect them all? Or is it eee-ffect? I can never remember that one.”

The wind picked up a bit, and the bagginess of his shirt fluttered about, showing off his ribs. The cage that held his heart. Protected it, more like. Because if it got free, it would either freeze the world, or try and save it. Neither would be good for him. Polar opposites, nonetheless, but still equally as damaging.

“Hm. Maybe we don’t need to reflect on that aspect of this dull metropolis!”

He shouted the last bit, standing up, and spreading his arms out like a bird. His eyes were angry, but calm, at the same time. I honestly couldn’t fathom how that was working.

“Maybe, we should just test the theory!”