Moonrise

It was a slightly chilly, but still beautiful evening in New York City. The sun was sinking low on the horizon, and for once, all seemed right.

A young man could be seen leaning over a hotel balcony railing, staring into the glow, somehow only adding to the simple, yet complex beauty of the scene.

A cigarette in hand, the raven haired musician thought about his life. What made him different from all the singers and other band members that hadn’t made it in the music industry? What made him any different from those who had?

For obvious reasons, he and the newbies were worlds apart – one being that he had years of stage and studio experience, but that was a given. What he wanted to know was why Tokio Hotel had made it while so many other bands hadn’t. Sure, they were good, but others were too, so as far as he knew, that didn’t matter. Why had they made it?

His thoughts turned to the higher-ups in the music industry, how so many of them were fucked up and in all kinds of trouble. Sex and drugs and rock and roll. Alcohol and jail and bright lights, limelight. They were so popular and so well known… But Bill always wondered, were they happy? No, he thought, that wasn’t happiness… but what was? He sure as hell didn’t have it.

Maybe he and the higher-ups weren’t so different after all. Now that he thought about it, he was messed up too. Borderline alcoholic, smoker since seventeen, paranoid… Maybe as popularity increased, so did problems. It figured. He had always know that megafame was his ticket to hell.

So why in heaven’s name was he still after it?

The singer took a long drag on his cigarette and sighed.

It was for her, or at least that was what he had always told himself. Now, he wasn’t so sure. But what did it matter? He would probably never find his true love anyway, and day by day, he could feel that dream setting in his life like the sun did now.

Even as he thought the words, the last sliver of bright yellow disappeared over the horizon. He sighed once again, dropped his cigarette to the ground, and put it out with one boot clad toe.

At that moment, as he watched the colors of the sunset grow less vivid, he desperately wished that he wasn’t alone. He closed his eyes, whispered almost to himself but almost not.

“Oh, I wish…” The words trailed off to be finished in his head and he opened his eyes, looking for something, anything. A sign to get him through the night.

And there, on the horizon, far from where the sun had set, he saw it. It was a glimmer of hope so needed in his chaotic life, and the young man felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him.

He smiled then, and his face was almost radiant in the pink glow.

Maybe the sun had set, but that certainly wasn’t the end; it was only the beginning of something else. And maybe it would seem worse for a little while, but he now knew that, in time, things would get better – once his mind’s eye adjusted to the “darkness.” Because darkness was only darkness for a split second while you got used to it. Then, and only then, could one see the glow of silver appearing on the horizon.

The singer took in a deep breath of the cool air and closed his eyes. He would resist the effects of fame. He would stop dwelling on his loneliness. He would love Tom and those closest to him with everything he had, and hold tightly to his dream.

He would wait for the moonrise.