Darkness.

He sees nothing, though his eyes are strained. Squinting further, no sound, and then-

He hears it: the rustling of the curtain, feet on hollow wooden floors.

Lights.

It's white and hot and he has to cover his eyes; turn away.

Shadows overtake him, growing bigger, taking human form.

"Why are you here."

It's not a question, but rather an accusation. Her words cut through him.

He tries not to feel the sting, the malice behind an inherently flexible statement.

He decides to open his eyes, to face the girl who hides in the light.

"You know why.

I'm here for the same reason as you."

His words would seem trite to most, but she can feel their weight.

She nearly flinches, unable to bear the sheer bluntness of his response, but holds steady.

"Then tell me:

Why am I here?"

She can't understand her own words, her actions;

Why she continues to play this game, dancing around forward conversations meant to be obscure and giving meaningful glances intended to hold nothing.

He takes out a sheet of paper and walks onto the stage.

She doesn't move, her breathing is silent. She watches him. He begins to write.

Dig deeper

Two words weighing down on her turbulent mind. They anchor her thoughts.

She looks at him, unsure. His eyes catch hers and they hold.

She breaks away first. He smiles.

"It's more than skin-deep:

It's bigger than that; deeper.

We aren't so shallow."

He says this with modest confidence. He's thought this through.

He has his answer as she continues to squander for her question.

She says nothing.

"You aren't looking hard enough."

Her head snaps as she looks for his eyes.

He knows. He knows.

"I don't-"

She begins, but he stops her; taps the paper and hands her the pencil.

"Two words."

His voice is hushed. She strains to hear him,

then scrawls quickly on the paper, panicked and anxious.

Utter confusion

He reads it and shakes his head.

"You can't just write the words;

You have to feel it inside you,

Breathe life into it,

Give it meaning."

She only feels more confused.

Frustration builds, exploding across her face, but she stays silent.

He puts his hand on hers and meets her eyes.

There's a moment, then.

A moment of still air; silence.

A moment where time stops and her thoughts stand still.

And she knows if she doesn't take advantage of this,

She'll never know how to answer the undefined.

She writes:

Fall harder