"You're the prince to my ballerina. You'll feed all the people's parkin' meters. You encourage the eating of ice cream. You would somersault in sand with me." - Zero 7, Somersault (When It Falls)
He stood on the rooftop staring at the sky. Every once in a while, he would side arm a pebble into the night.
�Did you see that shooting star,� he asked as she came up behind him.
�Yeah,� she said softly.
�That could be our shooting star,� he said, a little nave hope still in his voice. �We could name it and everything.�
�What would we name it,� she asked.
�I don't know,� he said as he put his arm around her shoulder. �Like Optimus Prime or Snarf. Maybe Rio or Synergy. Like from Jem.�
�We could call it The Misfit,� she suggested. �But, you know, it wouldn't be our star. Why would we want a shooting star, anyway? It's such a fleeting thing. A streak across the sky that doesn't even last 5 seconds.�
�Yeah, but it's magical. It's white hot. It's passion.�
�No,� she pulled her arm out from under his and pointed. �See that glowing neon sign out there in the distance? That sign has been there as long as I've lived here. As long as I've known you. I think that's our sign.�
�What's it say,� he asked.
�That's not important. What's important is that it's always there. It's comfortable. It's sure. It's steady. It's us. I don't want to lose that sign. I don't want to lose what we've always had. Do you get what I'm saying?�
�What's the sign say,� he pressed.
She sighed, �Live Nude Girls. All Nude. Live Nude.�
�As opposed to dead nude girls?�
�Yes, I suppose.� She paused, �I'm trying to be serious here.�
He smirked and said, �So am I.�
She tossed a pebble off the rooftop. He chucked his in the same fashion, mimicking her. He hoped she would notice. Hoped she would think it cute. She didn't react at all.
�So what you're saying is,� he said, �is that I should really start dating strippers.�
She chuckled and wrapped her arm around his waist, �Yes, I hear Cherry Apples is in the market for a new man. I've always said what you need more of are free table dances.�
They stood for a moment staring into space. No shooting stars came.
�I love you,� she said.
�I love you, too,� he said.
If only that were enough.