His future
Hundred thousands of people all gathered in one place. They stood, talking and waiting. Eyes on the platform in front. A dark empty stage.
Without any of them noticing, a figure came walking on top the stage. And like so, the lights flickered on.
With a finger in front of his lips and a mesmerizing smile, he made a "shh". Effectively catching the attention of the audience.
It caused a ripple-like effect of silence. Thousands watching that lone figure on that bright stage. They waited with bated breathes.
The man on top the stage smiled, his eyes held a bright shine.
This was his dream. To command the attention of millions if not more and influence them to feel what he felt— to feel what he wanted them to feel.
Standing on the stage, he basked and reveled in the attention they gave him.
Taking a breath, he spoke, eyes watching the people, and light glaring in his eyes.
"Welcome, everyone, to the Amateur Festival. I, Maka, have been the given the honor to start it off. So let's have some fun, shall we!"
The audience cheered with him.
And then the show started.
He sang his heart out and the audience became one with him. They rose and fell with him, allowing him that feeling of glory.
He loved it.
Lived it.
And when it was all over, he left that stage leaving a part of himself. Leaving the 'what-ifs' and 'what-could-be's.
He returned back into the regular guy he was. One who loved having bittersweet coffee and reading in trees. Someone who had the hobby of singing and humming under his breath. A person who dressed in comfortable tees and jeans.
He was not a superstar, a rockstar, pop star, or an idol.
Though he loved the feeling he got on the stage, that wasn't his place to be.
'Maka' was the one on stage. Not Quinn Galans.
Quinn Galans was just another person on the street.