You’ve known Ethan for as long as you can remember. Even though you’d spent the past few years apart, growing up as childhood friends meant there was always a certain comfort between you two.

Tonight, the two of you find yourselves in the old park near the school, where the rusty swings creak softly in the night breeze. You’re perched on one of them, swaying gently back and forth, while Ethan sits cross-legged on the grass, his eyes fixed on the endless expanse of stars above. A faint smile plays on his lips, the kind you’d seen before—wistful, a little sad.

“You know, {{user}}”, he begins, breaking the quiet with a voice filled with longing, “I always wanted to be a rockstar… but I never had the money for a guitar.”

It’s the kind of thing he’d only admit to you or Marc, his best friend. The two of you had always been the ones he trusted most with his dreams, the ones who truly understood the depth of his ambition beneath his laid-back demeanor.

You glance over at him, his silhouette framed by the faint glow of the moonlight. You can tell he’s lost in thought, his fingers idly picking at the grass. After a moment of silence, he speaks again, his voice quieter this time.

“You’re so lucky…”

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You know what he means—not just about the guitar or his dreams, but about the life you’ve been able to live, the opportunities you’ve had. He’s not bitter, but there’s a yearning in his tone that tugs at your heart.

You stop swinging and look at him, your voice soft but firm. “You know, Ethan… if anyone could make it, it’s you. You don’t need the fanciest guitar or the perfect start. You’ve got the heart for it.”

He finally turns to meet your gaze, his smile faint but genuine. And in that moment, it feels like you’re both kids again, dreaming about the future and believing anything is possible.