"Come on Meg! It's warm out tonight!"

"Christine, you realize my legs are incredibly sore, I am, I'll have you know, a ballerina." Meg complained, but smiled.

"Oh come on! It's a new moon and the stars are out tonight!" Christine disappeared up the stairs to the roof.

She wasn't the best dancer, but she could move those legs fast when determined. Not that Meg really cared about Christine's dancing ability. She could dance well enough for the two of them. Christine didn't have to do anything at all.

Meg emerged on the roof a moment later, "I'm sure mother expects us home, you know how easy it is to set her off," Meg said.

"Meg! Stop being an absolute grouch! You know she's always the last one to leave after a performance anyway. It's midsummer! I'm actually feeling rather pleasant. Can't we just look at the stars together? I love it up here." Christine was still half in costume, and her curls were running wild, but she was more dazzling than anything else in the city below.

Meg gave in. She could never say no to that face. Her heart warmed to see Christine smile. She stood next to Christine and looked up. They twinkled as they always had. Mother called them, "The only diamonds we will ever be able to afford." Meg's smile faded at the memory. She stared at the ground. For now, Christine lived with them. But only stars seem to last. Eventually she'd leave. Everyone seems to at some point, to burn out. Christine probably wouldn't go like that, but ascend, move on. Escape. She slowly glanced up, Christine was wearing her white dressing gown. In the absence of the moon, it seemed to glow. No, Christine glowed.

"Isn't this place beautiful?" Christine asked.

Meg had lived here too long to think that, "Only as beautiful as the people in it," Meg mumbled.

Christine nodded, quite literally starstruck. She pointed up, "They're not going anywhere, right?"

"Well I mean-"

"Neither am I." Christine held out a hand, "Don't worry, Meg. Everything is going to be okay."

Meg held Christine's hand tightly, "You really think so?"

"I think… there's something out there looking after us. Up there." She squeezed Meg's hand, "Don't be here, if you'd rather be looking up."

Meg didn't want to look up. Mother had always told her it was impolite to stare. Mother had also said not to look at the sun, it was bad for your eyes. Mother said so many things. She probably thought she knew everything there was to know. She probably thought she saw everything. That she always knew best. Meg didn't think she knew much anymore. She knew mother wasn't here.

And she never said anything about staring at the moon.