They say time flies by when we’re engrossed in what we’re doing. They also say to treasure the time we have so we don’t waste it. For that reason, time keeping truly is a challenging task. But behind a screen, everything is immortal, and youth can live in a timeless plane, captured in a myriad of colours. On that screen, stands a magnificent figure, her silky hair fluttering wildly, her voice sweet yet grand, like an avalanche of melodies swallowing up the countless crowds of light sticks and phone lights below the stage. High upon her podium, lights shine and intertwined like stars amidst dark skies, competing to gaze upon her moonlit dress glittering in silveries and jet black stripes. Once, many moons ago, her fans were, and still are, countless, her name known far and wide. Once, her songs reached for the heavens, and grabbed the stars in their wake. 

And amongst those captured by said tidal wave, is a young man, now in his twenties, waiting inside a furnished marbled elevator, elegantly ornamented. On his hand plays a screening of a song by his all time favourite singtress, Mariane Harlow, cased inside a battered looking smartphone. on his wrist, strange bracelets with runic characters grafted on lay, as mysterious as langues thought long lost to time. Befittingly enough, the young man is dressed in slightly old fashioned white T-shirt, blue jeans and a loosely fit grey hoodie, donning a black cap with an AC/DC logo in gold letters. And like a badly mismatched puzzle piece, he stands in the center of a lavishly looking elevator, fixated on his phone. Then, he raised an eyebrow at his sudden stop, and glanced at the polished door, his eyes drawn wide in disbelief, his mouth agape. In front of his bewildered self, at the very center of attention of the crowds of people behind her, is Mariane herself, in the flesh. Lost in his thoughts, he glues his eye to the elegant figure gradually making her way into the elevator, her jetblack hair flowing like silk against her marble-white fur coat. And as the door closes and the elevator begins his descent, it jerks the young man back to reality, clutching at his phone, his face flushed red like a ripened tomato. 

“Sorry for the commotion.”- The lady humbly smiles at him

“No… not at all”- he replies, running his eyes onto the ceiling

And thus begins the dreaded silence as the two figures quietly wait for their destination. So silent, the young man could hear himself sweat. 

Then, with an uncharacteristically heavy sigh, Mariane removes her white feathered fedora, and fans herself with it to cool herself off, despite the air conditioning inside the elevator. Biting back his excitement, he remarks inwardly to himself how, even in her middle aged years, elegant and captivating her beauty really is. Sneaking glances at Mariane, the youngman quietly admires the sun kissed tanned nape of her neck when she bunches up her hair, how elegant her teardrop jawline looks, and how drop dead gorgeous her features are, with a thin nose, pouty lips and fair jet black eye lashes. Before him, stands a work of art, a beauty chiseled and molded after god, as he finds himself sinking deeper and deeper into his own thoughts. Before long, however, he again jerks back into motion at the ding of the elevator, signalling the end of his short-lived daydream. 

As he frantically rummages through his trusty canvas satchel on his side, with the image of a double headed bear on a strip of green grass besides a red star, the elevator door swiftly opens, as the lady makes her exit. Then, at the nick of time, he pulls from his satchel a notebook and a pen, as he rushes out and said :

“Ex...excuse me, Miss.”

“hmm?” - Mariane replied, her brows slightly curved 

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“I know it... m-m-might be selfish of me to say this, but” - The young man swallowed hard- “can you sign me an autograph? I…. I’m a huge…. no… i’m your biggest fan!”

Wiping a grin of her face, Mariane gently smiled at him, swiftly receives his notebook and pen, and asks:

“It should be no problem. What might your name be?”

Strangely enough, Mariane finds herself surprised as the young man struggles to answer such a simple question. Fearing he might have simply missed it, being so nervous and all, she asks again in a slightly louder and more concise voice:

“What might your name be, young man?”

“Barbaros Lichen” - he answers, or more precisely, yelps. 

“Barbaros as in barbaric but with ‘os’ instead of ‘is’ and… uhm, Lichen is as it sounds” - he mumbles beneath his breaths, just audible enough so Mariane could hear. 

“That… is quite the name” - Mariane replies, her eyes wide in amazement

“Well… our family has quite the tradition with these things…” - Barbaros scratches at the back of his head

“That sounds like fun, Barbaros. Either way, I’m just glad that you enjoy my work.” - Mariane says with a light grin on her face.

“And here you…” - Mariane stops as she takes a good look at Barbaros.

Despite his strange name, Barbaros is quite a handsome looking youngman. In fact, amongst even the celebrities, few could hope to compare. 

It’s a shame his face is hidden underneath layers of facial hair - she thought. 

“And here you are. I hope you continue to support me in the future.” - she said with a smile

“Of...of course. Thank you so much!” 

“You know, you’re pretty good looking yourself. Girls must be fawning over you as we speak.” - she jokingly said

“Oh… uhhh… I wouldn’t know about that, heh heh…” - the flushed Barbaros responded

“Trust me. Do yourself a favour and get a hair stylist. I’m sure it would change your life. Well, since I’m running behind schedule, I’m taking off first. Take care, Barbaros.” - Mariane says as she waves him goodbye. 

“One more thing, Miss Mariane…”

“hmm?”

“Don’t… Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Indeed, it’s just as he said. For weeks, work has been piling up at her doorstep, from auditions, to recordings, to advertisement filming, to acting. There has never been a dull moment of respite for her, not until this point. And even now, she would still be pestered by the public media as soon as she walks out of the studio. 

“Of… of course, Barbaros, thanks for your concern.”

Uncharacteristically of the talkative Barbaros, he only replies with a gallant smile and waves her goodbye. 

So this is what it’s like to have dedicated fans, huh - Mariane thought, smiling to herself - Sure is nice!

For a long time, all she has been worried about is her work, and her time schedule as well as her make up. Thus, to Mariane, the youngman’s sincere worries are quite touching. And with that face of his, she feels her heart might have skipped a beat, if not for her wedding ring she dons, as she heaves a sigh.

He was like that too…

And at a push, the doors in front of her gently swings open, as a gush of late autumn wind playfully blows past her, hoping to snatch her fedora away. And as Mariane silently grunts inside at the sight of paparazzis waiting to prey on her, she pondered to herself : “What is such a shabbily dressed youngman doing at such a place?”

----END OF PROLOGUE----