Signs

"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.