OF AFTERGLOWS AND VAPOUR TRAILS


Nene combs my hair gently, humming softly to herself as I watch our reflections in the mirror.

Thirty minutes until I take the stage. I take a deep breath, exhale slowly. Even after two years of performing in front of sell-out crowds – stadiums filled with so many people, the flashing lights outnumber the stars – and I still get nervous before a show.

Nene smiles supportively, and takes my trembling hands in hers. And like she always does, she says, "Good luck!" and I smile, glad that she's there.

How did Sheryl do it every night, I wonder? Did she get nervous, too? She would never show it, but she would never show her weaknesses so easily in front of anyone.

My thoughts drift towards Sheryl, remembering the first time I ever saw her. It was on a television broadcast from Macross Galaxy: An uprising young starlet was taking over the music scene by storm – and as they flashed her name across the screen, her face filled the frame. Startling blue eyes and wild, pink-blonde hair. I felt like something had gripped my heart, and I couldn't look away from the screen.

Sheryl Nome. I said her name like a prayer.

Little did I know she would become my mentor, my sister, my best friend, my rival. I was inspired by her, led by her, guided by her, and eventually left behind by her, trailing in her wake.

Does she dream, as she lies sleeping? Does she think about me, as I think about her? Does she also wonder where Alto is, wonder if the three of us will ever be together again?

I glance at the clock. Ten minutes. Nene finishes the last braid in my hair, and I stand up, smoothing out the creases in my skirt. My costume this time is elaborate – something, I notice, Sheryl would probably approve of.

I wonder if I will ever stop seeing her shadows and reflections in everything I see. I wonder if I will ever be able to break free from her sparkle, and shine in my own right. I wonder if that meant I would stop missing her – I didn't want that.

Again, I was left behind. Alto has gone, we don't even know if he is alive, but I still hope. Sheryl has fallen asleep, never to wake up they say, but I still hope. Even though I'm alone here again, even though they have gone to where I cannot follow, I stand here, and hope, and wait.

In the end, all I am left with is standing silent in her afterglow, and watching his vapour trails in the sky. And I am right where I am supposed to be.