City of Stars

Are you shining just for me?

He came down to find me in the parking lot.

I’d been circling, anxiety quietly rising.

When he finally spotted me, I was just guiding my old silver-grey Cayman into a tight, unforgiving spot—smoothly, no hesitation.

But the instant I stepped out and saw him standing there,

my heart missed a beat.

Still, I kept my face calm and gave a casual smile.

“Hey,” I said softly.

Inside the KTV room, noise and laughter spilled everywhere.

Beer cans cracked open, piling up quickly on tables.

Someone had pushed two newcomers into an awkward duet,

their faces flushed as the room erupted in cheers.

I chose a seat near from him.

A cup of tea in hand, my expression carefully neutral.

I didn’t drink. Couldn’t afford to.

He was drinking more than usual—beer after beer.

One can quickly replaced by another.

His expression softened,

his usual guard slipping,

like he was finally someone I could approach.

So, cautiously, I did.

“Sing for me?” I asked quietly.

He blinked, startled but not resistant.

I clarified, softly but clearly, “Heartbeat.”

He nodded slightly and began.

His voice filled the room, a quiet intensity beneath the noise.

Someone playfully called our names,

and we both looked down, hiding quiet smiles.

I silently wished for time to freeze there, just a little longer.

Later, someone queued City of Stars.

My chest tightened instantly—I wanted to sing it with him,

but I didn’t dare.

So instead, I discreetly typed a message:

Are you shining just for me?

His reply was immediate, simple and clear:

Yes I am.

My heart jolted sharply,

then panic set in.

Was he serious?

Or was it just the beer talking?

As the evening wore on,

he drank until he couldn’t hold himself upright anymore.

I didn’t drink, yet my head spun,

half of me tracking his every move,

already planning how to safely get him home.

I slid into my stubborn, loud, attention-hungry 2.7L Cayman,

driving him quietly through the deserted city,

the familiar growl of the engine filling the silence between us.

He didn’t speak, already lost to sleep.

Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering:

Had he drunk so much tonight,

because deep down he knew—

it would be me taking him home?