Spirit of the Stage

TW: Death, implied suicide.

If Chris had known it would end like this he never would have tried; his boyfriend nearly never talked to him, he lost all his friends and now he was going to die. He just wanted to sing, he just wanted to be heard, but in following that dream he had lost everything else that mattered to him. There was nothing left. He had to face this head-on. He walked out from behind the deep blue curtain, and as the crowd saw his bright blond hair and freckled-covered cheeks they began to scream. 

“Why hello there everyone,” he yelled, out to the crowd covering the grass in front of the stage, they cheered and screamed, they waved, and he waved back. Slowly, he called out again, “Make sure to get this on camera will you.” He smiled before his knees gave way and he plummeted onto the cold black stage floor.

As he slowly, blinked opening his eyes again there were red and blue lights flashing all around him blurring his vision, he sat up suddenly, his head spinning, what had happened? He looked around and realized the lights were coming from the ambulances where the crowd had been only a moment before. He looked to the stage and saw a large group of people surrounding something, He could hear them screaming and sobbing, calling his name.

“I’m right here,” he answered in a shaky voice, what was happening to him? He slowly stood up and walked over feeling unbalanced and uncoordinated, and somehow lighter than ever. He tried to push someone aside to get through but…

His hand fell straight through the person, he tumbled forward not having anything to grab onto, and he landed with a thud on the floor. What the hell just happened? He sat up, he was now in the middle of the crowd, and he saw someone lying on the floor, they had bright blond hair and freckles all over their cheeks, just like him. It was him. What the heck that boy on the floor was him, and he wasn’t breathing.

 Suddenly everything clicked, he had just died. He was just a ghost now.

“No, no, no what the hell is happening?” he looked around at all these faces, some people were doctors some were just fans, but his friends were there too, crying, his boyfriend was kneeling, right next to him.

“Lucas?” Chris whispered. 

“Oh my god, no, Chris, no, no, I’m so sorry this is all my fault,” Lucas cried. 

“No, Lucas it's not your fault please listen to me, please,” Chris yelled but no one looked at him or acknowledged him, none of them could see or hear him “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Without warning a cold bone-like hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out of the crowd, straight through one of the doctors who immediately shivered.

“Ready to go?” a raspy voice asked. Chris turns to see a dark shadow-like figure in a cloak. “Don’t worry, they’ll be ok,” it assured him.

“You can see me?” Chris asked carefully.

“Yes, little stage spirit.” It answered with a hint of kindness in its voice “I’m here to escort you to the afterlife, my boy,”

“But, Lucas, he’ll be all alone,” Chris cried.

“He’ll be ok, and so will everyone else,” it says extending its long bone arm.

“Now, come,”

“But it’s all my fault, I caused them so much pain when I was alive, I thought they would want this,” Chris cried.

“No little spirit, they all love you, they always have, you just wouldn’t accept their love, you kept pushing them away” it sighed, “I’m sorry little spirit of the stage but you are too late, there is no going back now.”

“But…” Chris suddenly felt something in his chest, it hurt “Wh-whats happening?” he clenched his chest tight, it felt like his heart was going to explode. He doubled over from the pain, looking up to the clocked figure, to ask what to do.

“They started chest compressions, they want to save you,” it replied calmly.

“Save me?” He asked.

“If you let them,” it said stepping closer, “just fall back into your body, if you are successful, you will be revied,” it shrugged.

“And if I’m not successful?”

“Your soul will be destroyed,”

Chris watched the doctors trying to revive him, he saw his boyfriend watching, tears in his eyes.

“No, I can’t go back, not now,” Chris shook his head.

“Are you sure little spirit, you could start fresh?”

“I can’t, what if I just hurt them more,” Chris questioned worriedly, he didn’t want to mess this up more than it already was.

“You dying will hurt them,” it argued, patiently, it annoyed Chris.

“What if you wrong,” he yelled, the figure fell silent for a second, before speaking.

“I might be, but I do know they loved you, they all do, but it doesn’t matter how much they loved you, does it? It matters how much you love them and the amount of love you're willing to receive.”

“I do love them,” Chris whispered faintly. They were the reason he had even made it this far, they were his life force for so many years before he started performing.

“Then why won't you go back to them,” it shrugged “I’ve met souls that immediately try to go back for their friends, but not you, why?”

Chris fell silent, he could clearly see how much they cared for him, and what was he so afraid of. He turned around to look at the group of people, some had moved away, and others were taking photos, but his friends were still by his side even after everything he had done, he turned to the shadowy figure, a tear rolling down his face.

“Even now they are still by my side, and I never even noticed, I’m hesitating because I know, I don’t deserve a second chance,” he muttered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, they’ll all be better off anyway, right? They will be less stressed, now that they don’t have to worry about me,” He whispered with a faint, fake smile.

“Ok then, take my hand,” it sighed.

Chris reached for its cold skeleton hand, grasping it tight, he turned to his boyfriend one last time.

“I’m sorry, I love you. Lucas please don’t remember me, don’t let me cause you any more pain,” he whispered placing his hand on Lucas’s head. “Let’s go,” he sighed. He watched his hand slowly disappear followed by his arm and shoulder.

“So long spirit of the stage,” the shadow sighs “I hope you made the right decision, I don’t want to be back here anytime soon,”

Lucas cried as the doctors tried to revive his boyfriend. He knew it was useless though, he wasn’t coming back. Chris was too stubborn for that, he was too stubborn to do anything, too stubborn to ask for help, too stubborn to let himself fall, too stubborn to accept anyone's love. Lucas always said it would be the death of him, but this is too soon. As the doctors declared his beloved boyfriend dead, Lucas felt something touch his head, it was cold but gentle, like a careful hand touching his head. The same way, Chris would say goodbye, when he left for the day.

“I’m sorry, I love you Lucas,” a small voice echoed, in the wind.

“I love you too.”