The city never slept, and neither its lights nor the people in it. Rian hated it sometimes -- the way the artificial brilliance drowned out the night sky, barely letting the stars shine visibly, even on the rarest of nights.
He adjusted the strap of his telescope case on his shoulder, weaving through the sea of people that came from work, bars, and cafes. His destination was a small rooftop park, one of the few places in the city where he can be his true self and pretend the stars were still his.
At twenty-four, Rian Arden had learned to carry his solitude like a second skin. He was lanky, with dark hair that fell messily over his glasses and eyes that seemed to hold the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts and buried pain.
Rian's colleagues at the observatory called him "The Dreamer", half in jest, half in awe of his ability to lose himself in star charts and equations. But tonight, he wasn't headed to the observatory. He just wanted to breathe, to be himself, to find a corner of the world that felt like his own.
The rooftop park was built between two towering skyscrapers, a hidden gem of nature that most people ignored, or worse, forgotten. Rian climbed the narrow staircase, the city buzz fading slightly with each step. When he opened the door, he froze. Someone was already there.
A guy sat cross-legged on the low stone wall that edged the park, a guitar in his lap. The soft strum of chords filled the air, weaving a melody that felt both haunting and wistful. Rian's first instinct was to retreat --- he doesn't share spaces well, especially his stargazing spots, but something about the music held him in place.
The music wasn't loud or showy, just... honest. Each note seemed to stir something deep inside him, something he hadn't let himself feel in a long time.
The musician hadn't noticed him yet. In the dim glow of a nearby lamp, Rian could make out tousled chestnut hair, a leather jacket slung carelessly over a worn t-shirt, and fingers that moved with practiced ease over the guitar strings. The guy looked about Rian's age, maybe a year or two younger, with a kind of charm that made Rian feel instantly out of place and self-conscious.
He should leave, turn around and find another spot for another night. But then the guy looked up, and their eyes met. "Hey", the guy said, his voice warm and slightly rough, like he'd been singing for hours. "Didn't expect company up here."
Rian's throat tightened. "I uh.... come here to stargaze," he managed to say, gesturing awkwardly to his telescope case. "Didn't know anyone else used this place... It's always just me." The musician's lips quirked into a grin, and he set his guitar down beside him.
"First time for me. Needed somewhere quiet to think." He tilted his head, studying Rian with an intense gaze that made his skin prickle. "Stargazing, huh? That's cool. You see anything good up there tonight?"
Rian hesitated, caught off guard by the genuine curiosity in the guy's question. "Not much," he admitted, briefly glancing at the sky. "Too much light pollution. But there's a meteor shower coming in a few days. Should be visible even here."
"Nice." The guy leaned back on his hands, his gaze drifting upward. "I'm Nathan, by the way. Nathan Ross." "Rian. Rian Arden." he replied, shifting his weight. He wasn't used to conversations with strangers, especially not ones who looked like they belonged on a stage or in a music video. Nathan's presence felt too big for this quiet rooftop, yet somehow, he fits, like he was part of the night itself.
"You gonna set that thing up?" Nathan nodded towards the telescope case. "Or you're just carrying it as your aesthetic?" Rian's cheeks warmed. "I was going to... If you don't mind." "Mind?" Nathan deeply chuckles, and it was the kind of laugh that could light up the whole city. "Nah, I'm curious. Show me what you've got, stargazer."
Rian busied himself with the telescope, grateful for something to do with his hands, instead of just standing there awkwardly. He set the telescope up on a flat patch of ground, adjusting the lens with practiced precision and accurate direction.
Nathan watched, his guitar resting against the stone wall, his silence surprisingly comfortable. When Rian finally peered through the eyepiece, he lets out a soft gasp. The sky wasn't ideally perfect, but a few stars burned bright enough to cut through the city's glow.
"Want a look?" Rian asked, surprising himself. Nathan's eyes lit up. He went and crouched beside the telescope, his shoulder brushing Rian's as he leaned in. "Hell yeah. What am I looking at?" Rian pointed to a faint cluster of stars. "That's the Pleiades. A star cluster. It's one of the closest to Earth."
Nathan squinted through the lens, and for a moment, he was quiet. Then he let out a low whistle. "Damn. That's... strangely beautiful." Rian's chest tightened at the way Nathan said it, like he meant it. "Yeah," he murmured. "It is."
They took turns at the telescope, with Rian pointed out what little he could see through the city lights. Nathan's asking questions that were half-teasing, half-sincere. It was strange, how easy it felt. Rian didn't expect to do this -- talk to people, share his world... But Nathan had a strange way of pulling him out of his shell.
Eventually, Nathan picked up his guitar again, strumming softly as Rian packed up his telescope. The melody was different this time, slower, almost like a lullaby. Rian paused, listening. "You play your guitar like you're telling a story." He blurts out before he could stop himself.
Nathan's fingers stilled on the strings. For a second, his expression flickered, something raw and vulnerable passing over his face. Then he smiled, softer and more genuine this time. "Maybe I do. You've got one too, don't you, stargazer?"
Rian didn't answer. He didn't know how to. But as he slung the telescope case over his shoulder and said goodnight, he felt the weight of Nathan's words linger, like a star he couldn't quite name.
The city buzzed below, oblivious to the quiet and genuine moment that had just unfolded. And as Rian descended the stairs, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted -- like a new constellation had begun to take shape, faint but undeniable, in the vastness of his sky.
Also, deep inside him, Rian knows that it won't be the last time that he will see Nathan.