Living parallel was the only thing that made it possible to actually live his life in solitude, even when there were people all around him, all the time. He could detach himself, crawl away into his personal darkness, and no one ever noticed. This is why sleeping in the tub of one of the most expensive suites in the world did not seem to bother him, nor did it phase him to be at all strange.

It was because the bathrooms never had windows, and the soft plush carpet was high enough to block the fire from under the door. Safely locked away, he would light the candles that covered every flat surface, turn off the overheads, and sink into the porcelain filled with pillows. That was the only thing he hated about it, it was very hard to get comfortable in an empty sunken tub. The size, however, was very enjoyable, being large enough to hold three people at least.

He could occasionally hear a maid come by, stopping at the door before remembering the strict orders to leave everything outside the door if it was shut. No one was to question, and no one was to force the door in any way. Still, he locked it, checked it every dawn before settling down.

"Darren Darren Darren...Oh you made for a strange one. You'd never give up your posh lifestyle for a stab at becoming unknown again, would you? No, you like it too much..."

He could see the grinning figure who had been sitting on his bed a few nights before, his teeth gleaming in the shallow light cast from the distant lightening. His eyes had been just as green as the last evening they had been together, remembering it all before it all had to end, had to be pulled away from them. That was the night his world had changed, he could never go back.

Some days, he couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried. He would play with the ice in the bucket on the side of the tub, letting it melt in his fingers and drip between them into the darkness below. He would watch it with some fascination, remembering how it used to melt so much faster in times gone by, times of strength and passion. He could hold a single sliver for an hour before it would lose its battle against the temperature of the room, dissipating into a small glistening puddle against the candlelight.

The numerous flames he lit would also capture him, hold him hostage for hours on end. He would watch the reds, yellows and oranges play lightly among the wick and wax that gave it some semblance of life. The ones placed on the countertop caught him the most though, the mirror reflecting hundreds of images back, chasing out the inky black with a safe and comforting light. It even gave him a soft glow, something he very rarely had, even when he was alive and healthy.

It was at those times that he could think to himself, no worries of being interrupted or having to be pulled to God knows where to do God knows what. It was his secret to keep, though in a way, he wanted to scream it to the world, make them understand. He had ached for them to see that he was only human, just like the rest of them, but he couldn't even do that without lying to everyone.

"It's a viscous circle, isn't it? You fight to have them know you, for you, and then you realize that you don't even know anymore. You lose your reasoning, because you have no real reason anymore, you'll live long passed any of them, anyone that you've ever felt for, cared for, lived with, worked with. They will all whither away long before you."

He knew that it would be his downfall, that he still cared too much for the living, for those who were once close to him, but he struggled to see every gift as a gift, not as a curse as everyone else would. It wasn't his character to let something so delicate, from someone almost deathly silent, go to waste on a bad thought. There were simply some things that had to be dealt with, a new set of rules to learn to live by. Nothing beyond his capable hands, and nothing that he couldn't deal with in time.

He rolled over, the pillows brushing lightly against his bare skin as he lifted his head high enough to glance into the mirror. His hair was mussed, but he hadn't bothered to do anything to it the night before. He had long given up on his hairdresser, finding that it was easier to duplicate his styles on his own rather than have someone find out about him. Of coarse, there were the details of making it seem like it was slowly growing out, like he was leaving it to it's own, though he would spend the hours just before dusk meticulously perfecting the look again.

"You see, you were made for the part, made to walk the nights. You loved the stories, loved and admired the characters for what they had, even if they weren't real. But now, now you are real, we are real, and it doesn't matter what happens. Eternity will bow to us, and someday, somehow, we will find each other again. You are living your wildest dreams..."

The candles slowly burned down, dimming in his eyes as the night began to come to the world around him. He thought of the show, of the fans and the sounds, yelling and screaming all around him. Then maybe a party with the band to chase down the bitter taste of fame. It wasn't any more sugar coated than when he started, but it had gotten sour without his savior to back him, to watch for him like before.

"There's hope in the darkness, you know you're going to make it..."

"Eternity will bow to us, and someday, somehow, we will find each other again..."