Wishing on a Superstar

The wind whips my hair and it stings my face. I pay it no mind. I stand with my head tilted back, staring practically straight up. A large billboard fills my view. The most precious thing I've ever seen.

My neck begins to cramp, so I sit down, then lay back in the tall, untended grass, my eyes never leaving hers. The traffic roars by at bone-chilling speeds, but I ignore it. Everything, every part of me, is concentrated on the billboard. My ears, my eyes, my breath, my toes, my heartbeat…

I don't know what she's marketing - I don't care. No one does. Just like everyone else, all I notice is her. Her blonde curls, her perfectly painted lips that form her flawless yet mischievous smile.

Someday, I think. Someday it'll be me up there. Someday… I'll be just like her. And then I'll get to meet her.

Darkness falls, and I wake from my trance. I stand and pick up my duffle bag. It was a long ride from Boulder to Vegas, and there is still quite a way to go before LA. With a sigh, I follow the fence to the nearest highway onramp. I plant a hand on my hip and stick my thumb out into the road. I count fourteen cars that pass me without a glance. I drop my duffle and sit on it. It's gonna be a long night.

But someday…