Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
... Ford would always be a star. Always. He burned bright like a frame, shining his intellect and determination everywhere he went like sun rays on earth. He was a man who went places, who worked his ass off for what he wanted. He was a man who could create a new galaxy with his stardust, and light the way to a beautiful future.
... But stars don't seem to notice people admiring them, do they? They just continue forward, barreling through the earth's atmosphere and shining through the darkness with saving light, even miles, hell LIGHT-YEARS away.
They don't notice the dirt on earth, staring at them with caring eyes. They don't recognize the rock and land, despite being made from the same stardust. If anything, earth is a nuisance. Only there to watch the stars die and burn, thinking that it looked beautiful against the loneliness of the sky at night. Comforting, to watch a fire die out.
... Maybe Stan was like the earth in that way. Hopeless to watch as Ford was destroyed by his own reckless actions. Watch as his brother started to grow tired of him. Watch as he squeezed Ford too tight, too close, and accidentally forced him to burn away forever.
... Maybe Ford really was like a star. And Stan was just the dirt of the earth, admiring something that would never appreciate his existence in return.