Dear Fin,

    There's something about the stars that is ridiculously romantic.

     Not just romantic in the sense of a relationship, but romance that comes in the very essence of what it means to be a dreamer. Because being a dreamer is romantic in itself; romantics are the citizens of the world who are impratical, yes, but passionate enough to be the adventurers, to live their lives without knowing the consequences. 

    But the stars . . . sometimes, I look up and see their starry gaze watching me and I know that everything is going to be okay. Because in the stars I am no longer Annalise Martin, a struggling waitress/artist; I am a young girl who apsires to belong to the night. I am a dreamer, I am a romantic, I am an adventurer. It's in the stars that I find promise and that gives me a smile. A satisfied sort of smile, a smile that understands the world, a smile that allows me to be happy for a time. 

    Anyways, enough about stars. If these do not manage to get destroyed and you are some how reading this, then I doubt you find my blabbering about celestial bodies too interesting. If you didn't, though, I would say you're an uneducated prat, since the stars are beautiful and- nevertheless, let's change the conversation. 

    Today, I had my meeting with the art conductor from the gallery. If you do remember the appointment that Ailsa basically set up for me by showing my art to her grandson, who works at the gallery. Basically, my previous sentence was pretty self-explanatory.

    Of course, I had never been so nervous in my life, this woman could guarantee my future and help me achieve my dreams, so nerves were constantly buzzing along my skin. Fortunately, she was very nice. A somewhat scatter-minded older woman; she was dressed quite sleekly, her hair stringy and shaggy. Her name was Veronica Ashworth.

    "Hello, hi," she greeted in the sort of voice you'd expect would belong to a radio host personality. "Annalise Martin, right; man in the study? Brilliant. So freaking brilliant. Simple yet extraordinary, you know? I would love to have more things like that here and- sorry, I'm rambling. I get passionate and then I just go on and on."

     She certainly was chatty, but in an endearing sort of way. I had responded as she had been talking with gratitude and confirmations.

    "Anyways, next to the business. Scott said you'd bring a portfolio?" She continued.

    I passed her my manilla folder; I had taken photographs of my pieces for the sake of convenience. She took it from my hands.

    Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes remained steely with concentration. She flipped through the pictures, roaming over every inch of the surface. I was sweating, anxiety causing my heart to thunder away in my chest. Finally, she closed the manilla folder, remaining silent for a moment. I just wanted to demand her thoughts and opinions from her, but she continued to wear that pensive expression.

    After many panicked and frantic heartbeats, she spoke, "These are really . . ."

    Yes, yes, yes?

    " . . . Spectacular. You really have an eye for capturing a scene; most of these are fairly basic ideas, but your artistry really expands the brilliance of it all," she praised.

    My cheeks warmed. I've heard praise before on my work, but none of it mattered before until this woman. Veronica Ashworth could give me Everything. Pleasing her was my opportunity to achieve the only thing I've ever really aspired towards. I sputtered words of gratitude, "Th-thank you, ma'am."

    "Oh, don't call me that, I'm not that old. Wait, I don't look that old, right? I mean, I think I still look young. I can still strut my stuff, I just choose not to to because I have more class than that. But it would be less classy if I acted like I'm a kid when in really elderly. Oh, goodness. I'm having a middle-aged crisis; I need to go out and meet young men and tell people who many years young I am and buy a sport's car-"

    I had no idea how to respond to that.

    "-But apart from that traumatizing and shocking realization, I really like this. I really like you, you're very talented," she said. "Now, I'm not sure if you've ever seen this gallery before, but we usually present very abstract pieces. You're art is obviously not abstract, so . . ."

    I gulped, this was the moment where she was going to apologize -or at least I thought she would, since she seemed like a nice woman- and tell me my work didn't belong there. And it would no longer matter if she praised it because I would never know if it was genuine; if she had truly like it, she would've put it up in her exhibit.

    "I guess I'll have to make an exception for this," Veronica Ashworth concluded.

     My eyes widened to the point where I worried they would fall out of my head. I'm fairly positive my heart stuttered to a complete stop. Tears, tears of joy for once in my life, built a strong barrier around my eyes.

    "Re-really?" I questioned, still completely and utterly unbelieving. I had known coming here, obviously, that this was an opportunity, but now that it was actually facing me . . .

    She smiled, the sort of smile that only those satisfied with their lives could wear. Not many wore them, or ever would. Her teeth sparkled like the stars in the sky, that romantic Veronica Ashworth. "I'm not sure how many people have told you this, Annalise -I hope you don't mind that I'm not calling you Ms. Martin, it's just that you're younger than me and calling you by a proper title seems rather odd- but your talent is . . . remarkable. To not share it with the world due to something as minor as reputation would be ungrateful. Besides, I can't afford to let some other gallery get their hands on you."

    "I . . . I really don't know how to thank you, miss," I told her.

    "You mustn't," she insisted.

    "This is the best day of my life."

    Her eyes twinkled, yet again reminding me of the starry points in the night sky. There was just something so dreamy about her gaze that reminded me of my ponderings of the endless black universe. "I'm glad to have given that to you, but that is a sad, sad thing. This day, based off your talent, was guaranteed to happen . . . you should have had many more happier ones. I can promise that this day will surely not be the best of your life soon if you continue to work with us."

    "I'll do whatever you want. Just . . . thank you so much," I told her.

    "You're more than welcome," she said. "Now, to technicalities. For your first gallery, we must decide on how many paintings and which ones we'll use. Then, on pricing. You'll have to decide if you want to make prints and sell them or we can have an auction-"

    I won't bore you with all the details of my deal.

    It has been the happiest day of my life.

    And the best part about it all: you didn't give it to me. Ailsa did. When I met Ailsa, I thought that she was finally something good in my life, a friend that's had managed to make without any help. But she offered more than friendship to me. She has handed me my dreams and aspirations, my hopes and faith, love and blissfulness. She has given me Everything.

    I love her, Fin. In the sort of way I once loved you, just without the romance. And that's a scary thing, to love someone is truly terrifying. It's the greatest fear one can hold, because then to lose that love . . .

    The funny thing about love is that throughout our lives, we're constantly warned of its damaging ways. And yet, us human fools just accept that fate and ignore the warnings, blundering into what we  should've already known was heart break. You have reminded me of all the pain I should've strayed away from, that I've been warned about. 

     But then I look at the stars . . . the same stars you're looking at. The stars that someone else will be watching millions of years from now, the ones watched millions years before hand. And throughout all this pain, we humans are connected, no matter how much we deny it.

    On this day, I realized that through our story, maybe you gave me another gift: humanity.

    I am not alone, I am surronded by my species brothers and sisters. I am just one star in a sea of others, I will never be alone. No matter how poorly I think my life is going, somewhere out there is another star that is suffering so much more. And I pity that star, I appreciate that star, I wish I knew that star.  I wish I knew all the stars that couldn't see their own brightness, who lingered within their souls darkness, because I would hold them like I wanted to be held so many times and promise they're not alone. Because look at us: I'm not alone, you're not alone, no one is alone. 

    I have this memory, from when I was very little, of my mother. I could barely walk yet so she was holding me, allowing me to lean my back against her chest as I watched the glittering night sky from our balcony. She was pressing little kisses into my neck and I was giggling at the feeling of her wet lips against my skin . . . I miss those days. But regardless of that, I remember her pointing up to the stars and whispering in my ear, "Make a wish, my darling; the stars are a master of fate and they will decide if you're destiny is worthy to align with your desires."

    And I did.

    I wished for a pony.

    What can I say? I was a baby. Although, I don't think I'd deny a pony now if I got one . . . 

    I never got the pony and I thought it was because fate didn't think I was worthy. And maybe it did, or maybe everything my mother told me that night was complete and utter bullshit. And maybe, fate is holding out on a pony to give me something better. I'm hoping for the latter.  Maybe that's why it gave me Ailsa, why it gave me Veronica Ashworth. Maybe that's why it gave me you.

    So, if you're ever out looking at the stars, make a wish. If you're alone or with Ally, which you probably are, just do it. Be the romantic, the dreamer, the adventurer, the star that I fell in love with. Be with your Ally, wrap your arms around her in the dead of night, placing kisses along her neck as she leaned her back into your chest, as my mother did all those years ago. Promise her fate and destiny and love . . . most of all, promise her you. Seal it with a kiss, an invincible vow twined with the stars. And maybe, the night sky will reveal that your stars have been aligned all this time. 

      Although, I'm sure the stars have already aligned in your favor. 

     Maybe they're finally starting to align in mine. 

      Maybe this is the beginning of the happily ever after I never imagined I would have. And although you aren't the Prince Charming, I perfectly okay with that.

-Annalise.

*

Hey Reader!

    Chapter's Song: "Awake my Soul" by Mumford and Sons. This beautiful song is about about having purpose in life and I think that that's what this chapter is all about. 

    Thanks for reading, my stars. 

    Love Your Favorite Liar <3