act I, scene I

My name is Takashi Shirogane. Through blood, sweat, and tears (and maybe a few peanut shells) I have created not only the greatest show in the country but the greatest show in the world. I have cultivated a celebration of humanity, one has said. This is my story and the story of the people who were brought together with my show.

...

Shiro

I hadn't known the boy for very long. Whenever my father decided to bring me along to one of his meetings at the Garrison, I always searched the room of stoic faces for his sunshine smile. I would sit, stiff, in the seat next to my father, and maybe a commander would comment, "General Shirogane, your son is becoming quite the young pilot. I've heard of his skills in flight school."

Father would squeeze my shoulder and offer a compliment to my grades or work ethic, but I was often too shy to say anything when the boy was in the room too. He was my age (I knew because he was in the flight classroom next to mine), but I never saw him in school, so these meetings were the only chance I had to catch a glimpse of him.

He was an Admiral's son and received similar compliments to me. Sometimes, other children would sit at the giant table too as their parents discussed military strategies or whatnot. Father told me that it was good for my developing mind to hear the discussions, but I barely paid attention.

He was barely tall enough to lift his chin above the lip of the table when he sat next to his mother at the meetings and he had a habit of resting his head on the smooth wood when the conversations got boring. On lucky days when we arrived early, I would always choose the seat across from where I knew he always sat so that we could have silent staring contests.

I vividly remember that his glasses were way too big for his face, which was why he was constantly having to push them up, but that I thought that it was cute in an endearing, worrisome kind of way. He had sandy brown hair and tanned skin that was kissed with freckles and a smile that I could spot instantly.

After the meetings, when our parents would mingle, he and I would run down the Garrison hallways and climb the steep stairs up to the rooftop gardens. There was a single bench up there that overlooked the desert before the Garrison and we'd sit, sometimes talking, sometimes not.

We started sitting there on opposite sides of the bench, but as the years went by, we migrated closer and closer together until our knees and shoulders brushed. The first time I kissed him, we were on that rooftop. The first time I kissed him, his mother had seen us from the balcony below. The first time I kissed him, I would have to remember his lips for the next four years, because he was sent to a private school the following autumn.

I promised Adam in every letter I sent him that I would never stop loving him. He waited for me. I knew he would.

When the time came for him to finally come home, I was waiting for him at the doorstep, his mother glaring at me, his sunshine smile like a beam of pure gold melting my heart. I kissed him on the doorstep, took his bags, and we promptly moved away from the Garrison to a small apartment one town over.

Adam never asked me for much, but I promised to give him everything. He came from a wealthy family, unlike me, and I wanted to prove to him that I could provide him with the same comfort that he was used to, even when he insisted that he was fine. I knew he was fine. I wanted him to be more than fine, though. I wanted so much and had so much to give and yet so few people wanted to accept it.

I was an overachiever, no matter if it was good or bad.

...

"Look, Takashi, it's nothing personal. You know that we love you working here and that we would never fire you. But it's time for you to face the facts. You can't pilot like this." I stared back at my Commander with blank eyes. I didn't really understand what was happening except that it was something about my arm.

I shrugged my good shoulder self-consciously. "There are prosthetics, though," I protested.

My Commander gave me a pleading look. "Come on, Takashi. Be realistic."

I knew how much prosthetics cost. At least, the one I'd need in order to keep my job. I didn't have that kind of money.

"You'll find work elsewhere, I'm sure of it. You're hard-working. It was a pleasure working with you, Takashi." My Commander squeezed my good shoulder like my father used to and walked past me.

Carefully readjusting my paperwork, which was crimped between my waist and my elbow to keep it from falling, I turned and walked out of the Galaxy Garrison without another word.

I had never expected to lose my job at the Garrison. I was a high-ranking official, an instructor, a pilot. Though, after my muscle dystrophy had gotten bad, I had been adjusting to life as best I could. I had lost my arm and prosthetics weren't cheap, believe me, but I thought that I had been doing okay.

This was the final straw though. No following in Dad's footprints. No General or Admiral or Captain. Just Shiro.

The walk home was long and with every step, I wondered how I was going to tell Adam.

Unlocking the front door to our apartment, the smell of cooking food and the sound of smooth jazz floated over my senses. Adam was always at his calmest when he cooked. He was usually very rational and collected, always telling me the straight truth and nothing more, but his softer side came out with food. And damn, could he cook.

Our apartment was modest at best. There were leaks and the heat didn't always work and sometimes we just had to deal with a lack of hot water, but Adam constantly reassured me that he was happy. I had no choice but to believe him, but it always made me feel ashamed.

Setting down my bags, I kicked off my shoes and padded into the kitchen. Adam's sunshine smile was a beautiful relief as he stepped over Kosmo, our dog, to kiss my cheek. He was holding a wooden spoon that was covered in tomato sauce and he had a few new red stains on his apron from today's dinner. Spaghetti, I guessed.

"How was your day?" Adam asked me, nudging his cat-eye glasses up the bridge of his nose with his knuckle.

I sighed. "I got fired." Best to just tell him straight. Adam looked confused for a second, then his face slowly contorted into one of anger.

"How could they-" Before he could get too far, I reached forward and grasped his hand, tugging him back to me. It made me uncomfortable when he got angry like that- he was usually the cool-headed one. He sighed, then shook his head and smiled at me. "It's okay. We can find something new."

My heart sank. I looked around our apartment, at the cracks in the ceiling and the holes in the walls. I intertwined my fingers with Adam's and met his eyes. "This is not the life I promised you."

He deserved so much more.

Adam's eyes flashed- he was used to me saying things like this, but I knew that he didn't like how I looked down on our home. He pushed me back against the counter and kissed my forehead. "I have everything I need," he replied, tilting my head up to meet his eyes. A kind smile spread across his lips and he asked me to set the table, the quiet night settling around our small home.

That night, as I lay with him beneath the quilts, his sandy hair falling across his forehead and his eyes searching mine, even in the darkness, I whispered, "If I could give you anything, my love, what would you wish for?"

Adam turned his face into my chest, his stubble rough on my skin, and sighed. "I'd wish... for happiness like this forever."

I felt the push and pull of my conscience in my mind. On the one hand, my heart was happy. Happy because Adam was. That was what he assured me he was, but then there was the other hand. The feel of my mind urging me to search for something more. Was it greed? Or was it the need to prove to everyone- myself, Adam, the world- that I was more than a cripple with empty pockets?

Falling asleep next to Adam, I knew that the need would gnaw at me forever if I didn't do something about it.