"I don't want to go home," he said, refusing to meet my eyes. I leaned across the table and took his hands in mine, giving them a gently squeeze.

"Why?" I searched his face.

"Because I finally managed to escape," he answered. Sighing, he looked up and made eye contact with him. His normally lively blue eyes now seemed dull and tired like the deep ocean. "Everything- all the pain, the hate..."

He stopped and took his hands from mine. "Not that you would understand."

I sat back in my seat and sighed, placing my hands in my lap. "Yeah, I wouldn't know anything about that."

But I did. All too well. I could still hear the shouts and screams echoing in my head from the fights that happened all the time. The sounds of cursing and furniture breaking.

"You're right," I ran a hand through my hair. "I had a great homelife. Still do."

It was a lie but it rolled off my tongue like a truth. I hated how easy it was to lie now, like it was in my nature.

I straightened and looked at him. "Sorry."

"One day, it's all going to end," he said, looking into the darkness of his coffee. The dim lighting of the cafe around him seemed to go with the browness of his hair and his chocolate eyes. "All the happiness, all the joy, the feeling of belonging-"

He trailed off, looking up to make eye contact with me. "It'll disappear."

I swallowed and looked down at my own drink, a caramel latte, something to go with the season. I didn't want to admit he was right but I knew he was. "What makes you say that?"

He chuckled lightly and took a sip of his drink. "Because I've seen it happened. To me, to other people, and eventually to you."

I chewed on my lip, thinking.

He set his cup down and leaned across the table, getting closer. He lowered his voice and continued. "Don't think that just because you're on top of the world right now means you'll stay there. 'Cause it doesn't."

He took one last gulp of his drink, slammed the empty mug down, and stood up. He grabbed his dark coat off the bench next to us and slid it on.

"See you later," he smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Is your earpeice in?" he asked, peeking around my side to look.

I nodded, running my hands through my hair. With a shakey voice, I answered. "Yeah."

He nodded and stepped back, fixing his white suit. "Are we ready?"

I looked at him, our eyes meeting. For a moment, tears blurred my vision but I blinked them away. I turned aside not wanting to see as a tear fell from his eyes.

"Come on," a staff member said, leading me over to the rising platform. "It's about time."

He followed me over and together we stood on the platform, waiting for the music to start. The first couple of notes filled the air and my heart rate picked up.

He turned to me, voice shaking. "One last time?"

I nodded, holding my hand out to him. He took it and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"One last time," he responded, attempting to even his breathing.

The platform started to rise and the dark night appeared before us. Thousands of people screamed and cheered as we bowed, the bright spotlights blinding us but only until our eyes adjusted.

He raised his hand, and the crowd went silent.

"Thank you," his voice caught in his throat. "Thank you for coming to our last show."

He went to continue but was cut off by cheers and sobs from the crowd.

"We want to thank you for being our fans and family for all this time," he continued. My eyes burned and I had to look up at the star-lit sky to keep them from falling. "You mean the world to us."

One last time. One last show. One last bow. One last moment of standing on top of the world.

The old man had been right. It always comes to an end. But it had been a good ride.