I don’t know why the stars chose me. At night, I go onto my balcony and watch the city lights fade away as they shine brighter than ever. In my dreams, they change patterns and dance in complicated orbits governed by consistent yet incalculable laws. During the day, I hear their static whispers breaking through the curtain of light. The only problem is: I don’t know what they’re saying.

Another night at Rick’s house, another glass of cheap box wine, another conversation I have to maintain while the buzzing continues at the back of my mind. Amanda turns to me with a drunken smile on her face. It’s only now I notice everyone else is passed out.

“Cheer up, girl,” she slurs out. “You’re not at a funeral.”

“I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately,” I say out of habit.

“That’s not the whole story,” she whispers. “Tell me.”

When did she get so close?

“Yeah… I… Look, I… It would be easier to show you.”

I get up. The vertigo tries to punch me down. Amanda only giggles as I stumble towards Rick’s balcony. The light bite of early frost sobers me up. The view from nine storeys up, the wind, the lights, it all looks…

“Wow,” Amanda whispers behind me. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.”

I wait. Amanda is less patient.

“So, what’s your plan, Liz? It’s a romantic view if that’s what you were going for.”

“Just watch.”

She pouts. One by one, the city lights dim. Darkness rolls in. And then they appear. I look over at Amanda and see the joy and awe on her face. Stars reflect in her eyes. They illuminate us both, like stage lights accentuating the main characters of the scene. Buzzing, static, noise, whispers. I lose myself in the stars. Amanda’s lips begin to move.

“Make us one. Give us more. We are dancing day and night towards you. We are coming. Bring us more. Make us one.”

The static reaches a crescendo. They shine so blindingly bright. Amanda’s feet rise above the floor of the balcony and keep drifting up. I can hear what they’re saying now, in my bones, in my guts, resonating with Amanda’s voice. Everything is a blur. It feels like the building itself is about to find its resonance frequency and break apart in one violent moment, floating upwards as a pile of rubble. And then it all goes black.

Rick finds me on the couch the next day. Everyone thinks I just had too much to drink like the rest of them. Amanda is nowhere to be seen. I already know they won’t find her. I make an excuse and leave.

I know what the stars are saying now. I can hear it every day in Amanda’s voice. I still don’t know why they chose me, but I know what I’m chosen for. I sleep with my blinds closed. I don’t leave my house after sundown anymore. I avoid other people, anyone else I might… give to them. Rick thinks it’s because of Amanda. I guess he’s right. The only problem is: the stars are getting louder.

We are coming. Make us one.