Run through the field with feet light as the grass around you. Turbulent winds still allow for graceful treading. The Earth is solid beneath you. The sky hangs vastly above. The other part of you is out there. It seems far but in this moment, surrounded by dirt, you are somehow guided closer to the stars. You find comfort in this feeling, because physically, it doesn’t make sense: the stars stretch unfathomable distances away from your hands as you reach toward the sky. Even at your tallest, you are nothing in their line of sight.
But that unseen energy pulls your bodies close. You and MWC 480 exist as one, feeding off of each other in times of need, and giving without hesitation. The stresses of every-day life on Earth are nothing compared to the hellish atmosphere and immense forces MWC 480 must withstand every day, and it gives you the strength to carry on.
Why set limits when no pressure on Earth will ever lead to anything on monumental as stellar actions? Why be home for dinner by six? MWC 480 just engulfs bodies that come too close at its own will. It doesn’t set a timeframe. It just acts and lives moment by moment.
They said on the news that they were close to actually reaching the stars. The connections would no longer have to be mentally cultivated. Instead, one could stand face-to-face with their stellar twin.
This alarms you.
Deep down, you know you are nothing next to your star. You wouldn’t face one another, floating in unison. Your star would engulf you just like another piece of space junk. But Earth permits the naive feeling of oneness that you’ve grown up with. You can look toward your star and disregard its temperamental nature. You can pretend like it channels all of its beneficial parts toward you, and uses its violence to fight off anything bad that comes your way.
Hold onto that feeling of integration. Of course MWC 480 needs you. You are twins. Your makeup is the same. You were born with DNA in special codes that stood for your star. No one else holds this code. No one else can form this connection.
Running again, through the grass. It smacks at your heels now, and you feel slight stings as the wind becomes more intense. The energy of MWC 480 pumps through you. The gauge on your watch shines bright. You aren’t just a boy running through a field, you are a boy and a star at once, blinding anything nearby with your intensity.
“Brandon, you’re late for dinner.”