“Your stars will never shine as bright as ours, Delson,” he hears in the distance. 

In the multiverse, there’s a universe that holds the species that specializes in making stars for stargazers on Earth to see. The starries were born to make stars, but each type of star they make represents their soul in many different ways. 

Delson was never the brightest starry in the universe. He wasn’t able to fly as high and smooth as the other starries, due to the energy in his fluffy ball-shaped ears always being low. Due to this, no one really wanted to be around him, as they were embarrassed to even be near him. All his life, he lived on autopilot because he never saw himself to be any better than what the other starries made him out to be. He constantly picked at himself, always looking back and never forward. 

His day was very simple. He loved to be anywhere near flowers and nature. Flowers don’t talk, but even in silence, Delson felt as if the flowers understood him in a way that nobody else does. Silence. Just silence. Delson loved peonies especially. He could sit with them for hours. As he sat with the flowers, the aroma filled the air as he picked up a book. He decided that he was tired, tired from what people made him out to be. 

“One star at a time, one will be brighter than the last,” he says as he opens the book and begins reading. 

Delson tried his best that night, he really did. He focused his mind as hard as he could like the book said, but the energy only lifted him off the ground for so long until he dropped to the ground, again, and again. 

“Is everything okay?” asks a shadow of a curvy figure appearing in his peripheral view. 

There she was, standing as beautiful as ever. He thought that she was like the physical embodiment of a flower. Is this what they were talking about all along? Is this the thing that comes to you when you least expect it?

“Yeah, I’m just trying to practice maintaining my energy in order to fly the way I want to,” he replies.

“Here, let me show you.”

“WOAH!” he shouts as their aura blend into where their hands meet.

The two shot into the sky, and the stargazers gazed at the beautiful Cassiopeia painted across the sky that night.