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James: age 8, a boy with dark brown hair and almond shaped eyes, sat amongst his friends in the school cafeteria as laughter and chatter from other children boomed in his ears as he unzipped his lunchbox.
“What’d you get today, huh?” His best pal Max asked, peering over his shoulder.
“Wait, wait,” James answered when they both knew the contents of James’ lunch hasn’t changed all year.
“Dip Dabs!” Max exclaimed, almost on cue when James opened the lid of his lunchbox.
James giggled. “Alright, there,” He passed the sweet treat over towards Max and pulled out the rest of his lunch items that his Dads packed for him: sliced apples with peanut butter, a box of Ribena, a bag of pickled onion Monster Munch and a sandwich. James could always tell who made the sandwich for the day; Dan always made sure to cut the sandwich in half and Phil would always cut off the crusts.
“Phil, leave the crust on for James, his hair isn’t going to not turn curly because you do that,” Dan would joke each morning when preparing their son’s lunch.
“He likes it this way!” Phil would say, stuffing a sliver of crust into his mouth while grinning across the kitchen at Dan, crumbs around his lips.
At the bottom of the lunchbox was a folded up piece of paper, a paper ripped off from Dan and Phil’s notepad which James recognized well.
A note was always handwritten and put inside James’ lunch, tradition per say, as it made James get excited to go to school and gave him something to look forward to since the beginning of his primary year.
The note always contained a scribbled out message from Dan:
Have a nice day! :-)
- Dad
Phil, however, would always draw something different on the note, usually an animal.
But today, a star was drawn next to his message:
For you, a star.
- Dad
A neon green star sticker was taped next to his signature.
“Do your Dads always write you the same thing?” Max peered over James’ shoulder again, with Dip Dab powder on his chin.
“Yes, but it’s different,” James answered. “Look what I got today!” He held up the note, his thumb covering the sticker.
“A what?”
“Look,” James cupped his hand over his right eye and held the note up to his face, the tiny star glowing in the dark of his palm.
“Lemme,” Max shaped both of his hands around his eyes like goggles and peered down the piece of paper. “Cool!”
James loved being at school and around his friends but the star sticker gave him an idea that day. He put aside the sticker, folded up the note and tucked it into his pocket, as he anticipated the rest of his day to get home.
—
At 15:45 the school bus would make its’ last stop on the street where the Howell-Lester’s lived. Everyday since James’ started taking the bus, both Dan and Phil would wait by the same lamp post, rain or shine. James would get off the bus, spot both of his Dads across the street and be greeted with open arms, making him feel like he was gone for days rather than just a few hours.
When the boys reached the front steps of their home, Dan noticed something stuck on James’ cheek.
“What’s on your face?” Dan asked, kneeling down in front of James.
“A star! Daddy gave it to me,” James giggled, turning his cheek towards Dan where he had stuck the star sticker onto his left dimple.
Dan looked up at Phil and shook his head. “I didn’t know you even had these! How many do you have?” He asked with a grin.
“Plenty!” Phil knelt down next to Dan and pinched James’ cheek. “I have enough stars for you to create an entire galaxy.”
—
From this day forward, Dan continued to write notes to James, wishing him a nice day while Phil would tape a neon star sticker with his packed lunch. James would stick the stars on his face during recess and sometimes on the back of his hand and as soon as he came home from school, he would stick them onto his bedroom wall near his bed.
“Someday, I’m going to have all the stars in the galaxy,” He’d say to Dan and Phil each night while the boys tucked their son into bed.
James had a fear of the dark like Dan, so in the middle of the night when he’d wake up in fright, he’d turn to the side of the wall where the glowing stars would bring him comfort and feel at ease, reminding him there will be another star waiting for him the next day.
—
James, 11 years old, his dark brown hair was now longer and fuller, his wavy locks fell gently in front of his face which he swooped to the side. He stood at average height with his peers and he was quiet, but always engaged and aware of his surroundings. It was the last week of primary, soon he’d be starting secondary. James was waiting for the bus home, swinging his lunchbox against his side, eager to tell his Dads about his day.
“Why do you have a sticker on your face?” A sharp, judging tone startled James from behind, as he turned around to a unfriendly face of the school bully. He was called Bradley and he seemed to have a permanent frown on his face. His tie was always worn loose around his neck and his shirt was always wrinkled, never tucked in as it supposed to be.
Bradley stood tall, peering over James with his arms crossed, making him feel small.
“I—I collect them,” James stuttered.
Bradley scuffed. “That’s gay.”
James didn’t fully understand the meaning of what that word meant but his heart didn’t like it coming out of Bradley’s mouth, making his stomach turn and his cheeks flush red.
Bradley unfolded his arms and reached for James’ face, making James flinch. He peeled the sticker off James’ cheek as the star fell onto the his fingertip. James could feel his face slowly burning as Bradley chuckled and ever so gently, blew on his finger, sending the frail sticker to fly off and land on the ground beneath them.
“Oh look,” He chuckled again. “A falling star.”
James felt frozen from the neck down, unable to move but he could feel his lips starting to quiver. Bradley rolled his eyes then proceeded to step over the sticker with his sneakers as he pushed past James, muttering words under his breath that left James uneasy.
—
James skipped his usual hello greeting and hug from Dan and Phil when he got off the bus that day.
“I—I don’t want the stickers anymore,” He blurted out instead.
Dan’s arms that were held out in front of him slowly descended as the smile on Phil’s face faded.
“You what?” Dan awkwardly placed his hands to his sides, looking over at Phil whose face was now completely blank.
“I don’t want you to write notes for me or leave me drawings.” James continued on, feeling his cheeks getting hot again. “I want to buy my own lunch too.” He swung his lunchbox and shoved it towards Phil’s chest, pushing past between them.
“James?” Phil called out.
James continued to walk ahead without turning back, not knowing what to say or how to explain the feeling that continued to turn in his stomach. It was the first time he’d walk home without Dan and Phil along his side, first time without a star to add onto his galaxy.
—
Neither Dan or Phil ever asked James what happened that day when James no longer wanted notes or stickers in his lunch. They respected his wishes and allowed him to buy his own lunches when he entered secondary later that year.
Notes written and left for James were now for reminders and groceries lists only, no more handwritten wishes for a great day and no more drawn out animals. Soon, James would disregard the notes entirely and when asked if he had seen them, James would respond with an eye roll and deep sigh: “Just text it to me,”.
After year 7, James asked Dan and Phil to no longer wait for him near the bus stop.
Phil looked over at Dan and shrugged. “I mean, that should be alright, right?”
“But we take Miso for a walk around that time,” Dan said, referring to their pet shiba inu.
“But you don’t have to wait for me by the bus stop. I can walk the few minutes home by myself.” James confidently insisted.
“But it’s on the way anyway, I don’t see why we need to avoid it, we—”
“Dan,” Phil interrupted. “If that is your request, we trust you to walk home alone.”
James’ face lit up. “Really?”
Dan sighed, pressing his lips tightly together, holding back.
“You’re old enough now and you can make decisions. We won’t—” It was harder to say the words out loud than Phil had thought. “We won’t wait for you by the bus stop anymore.”
—
The day after James’ request, Dan, Phil and Miso stepped outside at 15:20 for their daily walk. Dan, his hand gripped around Miso’s leash, came to a stop at the corner of the street. For years now, Dan and Phil took this path to pick up James from the bus stop and Miso, picking up this habitual routine, knew when to turn left or right. Miso began to tug on her leash to turn to the right when Dan pulled back.
“Should we just go and make sure he got off the bus?” Phil asked suddenly, when Dan was about to ask him the same question.
Dan, fumbling with Miso’s leash, shrugged. “We trust him, right? He’ll be… okay.”
The last statement from Dan rolled off like a question, sounding uncertain.
“I trust him,” Phil said, his hands in his pockets. “It’s other people that I don’t.”
Miso tugged on her leash again, digging her paws and scratching the pavement.
“Easy, girl,” Dan softly spoke down at Miso. He met eyes with Phil. “Other kids do it so ours can too. Let’s just go this way.”
Dan made his way to the left, pulling at the leash for Miso to follow.
Miso began whimpering, her nose pointing towards the direction to the right, her ears dropping down near her face and looking back at Dan with concerning eyes.
Phil knelt down and pet Miso to comfort her. “Hey, we’re just going the other way,” He soothed. “Come on.”
Dan and Phil felt a rush of relief when they heard their front door open a few minutes after they had arrived home from their walk.
“How was your day?” Phil called out from the lounge.
“Good!” James answered back.
James appeared in the door frame between the foyer and lounge. “You guys really weren’t there today.”
Dan, sat upright from the sofa that was across the room from Phil. “We thought—”
“No, it was good. See, I got home by myself.” James said with a smile.
“Yeah, you did.” Phil forced himself to let out a smile, though he hoped James would’ve asked him to wait for him again. “Tell us more about your day?”
“I have to get started on a book report.” James answered. “That’s all.” He turned away from Dan and Phil and made his way up the stairs, Miso following him behind.
Phil looked over at Dan. “So that’s all?” He repeated.
Dan sighed, slowly leaning back into the sofa crease. “That’s all.”
—
And during these years, the stars James had accumulated as a child lost its’ adhesive and began to fall on their own. What used to be stars scattered around his wall and above his headboard were now cluttered on the floor. James never bothered to peel them off or pick them up on his own, so Phil, while vacuuming James’ bedroom, would gather them up and stick them back on. Occasionally, Miso, would get a star stuck to her nose and roam around the house with the sticker, leaving them behind in a random room in the house for one of the boys to find.
—
When James entered year 10, he was nearly the same height as both of his Dads. He stood tall, lean, having a similar figure to Phil and his hair was similar to Dan’s: full with curls, sometimes hidden with a cap. He began to ride his bike to school, no longer relying on the bus. He loved to read and preferred books as presents. He loved to draw, but didn’t take it seriously. He wrote a few articles for his school paper and had his own cartoon segment featured weekly. He kept his childhood friends and made new ones in clubs he was part of. He fell in love with a girl called Sammy and she became a big part of James’ life. Sammy was energetic and always challenged James to face his fears. She wanted to watch movies in the dark and go to haunted houses during Halloween, letting James hold onto her hand as tight as he wanted during. Dan and Phil took a liking to Sammy and started inviting her to their family trip to the Isle of Man each year.
“Why do you still keep them on?” Sammy asked one day, laying in James’ bed, looking up at his childhood collection.
“I don’t know,” James answered, feeling his cheeks flush while picking the corner off one sticker then pressing it back onto the wall. “They used to glow in the dark but they barely do now.”
“Aw, did they protect you? From the dark?” She asked.
“I guess so, yeah.”
“It’s endearing,” Sammy grinned. “But kinda silly.”
“Y—yeah,” James hesitantly agreed. “Kinda silly.”
“You’re not afraid of the dark anymore, I’m here.” Sammy reached for James’ hand, interlocking her fingers with his.
—
Later that evening Phil knocked on James’ bedroom door before entering, his one hand cupped with stickers he had found stuck to Miso’s bed.
“I found these downstairs—” Phil entered, stopping when he saw that the wall next to James’ bed was blank; All the stars had disappeared, like it was never there before.
“I tossed them,” James said from his desk, his head buried behind a book.
“W—why?”
“They’re going to keep falling off, Dad. Kinda silly to keep them at this point,” James didn’t look up, afraid to meet eyes with Phil’s. “ Just toss them.”
Phil clenched his hand into a fist and nodded. “Alright.”
In the middle of that night James woke up from a bad dream, which usually happened when he was anxious or stressed. He felt a thick ominous energy from the darkness that engulfed his bedroom, a feeling he couldn’t easily shake off. He turned over to the side of the wall for comfort, only to be faced with the same darkness.
What used to be a small galaxy of stars that made him feel tranquility was now what felt like a black hole, nothing.
—
James, 18, graduated year 13 as one of the top students in his class. He decided to pursue a career in writing and was ready to start university as a journalism major.
It was 07:00 on a Sunday morning, three days before orientation began for freshmen students. James’ university was just over two hours away from their home in central London so he decided to drive himself up to campus ahead of time before Dan and Phil would meet up later to help him fully settle in.
“You’ve got everything?” Phil stood at the end of the stairs with a mug of coffee.
“Here, this was stuck on the fridge,” Dan stood next to Phil, pulling out a piece of paper from his robe pocket. “It’s about your housing?”
James nodded and accepted the piece of paper. “Oh, right, thanks, I will definitely need it.”
“Anything else you need in Manchester, let us know,” Phil grinned, placing his hand on his son’s shoulder. “We’ll bring it up for you next week.”
James could tell how tired both of his Dads looked this morning. Phil had on his glasses and his hair wasn’t styled the usual way, pushed back. His black dyed hair was fading, revealing his natural ginger roots. Dan’s curls were tossed in every direction and the lines in the corner of his eyes appeared particularly deeper, his eyes looking like heavy weights on his soft face.
“I’ll let you guys know when I get to campus,” James said as he made his way to the front door.
Miso followed along behind, nuzzling her wet nose against his back leg.
“I’ll see you soon, sweet girl,” James bent over to scratch behind her ears. “Oh, I forgot my last suitcase upstairs in my room.” James stood up straight.
“Hey, no worries, I got it,” Dan started to make his way up the steps. “I’ll meet you two outside.”
James and Phil made their way out to their driveway as Phil gave his son one last hug goodbye.
“You got everything?” Phil asked once again, nerves kicking him more awake than his coffee.
“Yes, I’ll let you know if I’m missing anything.” James assured. “The last few boxes in the garage should be all I need to fully move in next week.”
“Don’t be afraid to try new things and call us if you need anything,” Phil said, fumbling with the coffee mug still in his hand.
James nodded. “I won’t—”
“Alright!” Dan appeared at the front door, James’ suitcase dragging along behind him, making his way down the steps onto the driveway.
Phil made his way over behind James’ car and lifted the trunk.
“Thanks Dad,” James grabbed the suitcase from Dan and pushed the luggage into the trunk. He arranged a few boxes he had and pushed down the trunk to close.
Stood ahead of him, were Dan and Phil, with their arms around each other, both staring back at their son with tired eyes and smiles. The view of his Dads at that exact moment sent James into a flashback to what he would always see when he’d get off the bus as a child. Now, instead of running into their arms for a hug and telling them about his day, he was about to turn the opposite way to embark on a new journey as a young adult.
“We’ll see you soon,” Dan nodded towards James, raising his hand to his brow, saluting by only using his two fingers towards his son, a frequently used gesture in the Howell-Lester household.
“See you.” James saluted back.
—
James arrived at the University of Manchester around 09:45, finding the perfect spot to park that was a close walking distance to his dormitory. He swung his backpack over his shoulders and dragged his suitcase along behind him, with the information slip regarding his room number and key gripped around his fist.
He opened the door to a single room with a twin bed that he knew right away would be too small for him and a smaller desk by the window. The walls were painted an off white color, almost yellow, but it didn’t make the room feel warm; If anything, it did just the opposite.
James threw both his backpack and suitcase on the floor and sat on the bed, the mattress sinking in and the box spring squeaking from his weight. He pulled out his phone from his back pocket to respond to missed messages and sent a text to both Dan and Phil that he had arrived safely. He felt a sudden rush of anxiousness at that moment, his chest tightened, the feeling of home escaping and being replaced by the realization that he was completely on his own. He was interrupted by his phone buzzing, alarming him that it was on low battery. He slid off the bed and onto the floor, unzipping his suitcase to grab his phone charger. As he unpacked a few clothes and towels out of his suitcase, he noticed something in the corner of his eye. In the mesh pocket on the side of the suitcase, was a folded up note with a recognizable scribble with smeared ink: James. He unfolded the note to find a nostalgic message:
Have a nice day! :-)
- Love you, Dad
For you, a star… to always guide you during your journey. This is only the beginning!
- Proud of you, Dad
Where his right thumb was resting while holding the note, there, the same star sticker he loved to see as a child was taped underneath. A sigh of solace and smile formed in James’ face, as he stood up from the floor and sat back onto his bed. He peeled the sticker and pressed the star onto the plain wall of his dormitory, sensing the comfort of home being restored.