James Burnham is a name that you must know in this Society. Whether you are old or young.

Rich, handsome, smart and kind. He’s the talk of the town.

A gentleman so fine that he must have been blessed by the goods. A gentle nose and caramel eyes. Poetic and well behaved. A desire evoking smile and wise hands. Full lips and strong arms. Respectfull and kind. He is a hero, they write about. A savior they paint.

Oh what a man he is !

He is always wearing the newest attire. A modern man. His warm skin tone promises a swirl of sensation. A new fresh breeze in the old stuffy society. The enchanting scent of everyone’s dream. The warmth in every cold winter.

James Burnhamn would never embarrass a lady, they say. He’d make the perfect son-in-law, they whisper.

Oh what a treasure he is !

He’s exceptionally smart and cherishes strong women. Encourages silent ones to step up and let their voices be heard. He’s the heir to a unspeakable rich family. Raven black curling hair and a catching smile with little brightening dimples. White teeth and a clear skin.

He’s a wise man they say, a modern fellow they laugh. He is perfection they scream !

Oh what a prodigie he is !

You would be a total fool if you didn’t know his name. You must know his name like you know hers.

The Emperors bastardchild Amy Lancaster

So how come that this diamond of a man dies ?

Everyone is baffled. Who is the murder of this man ? Who rubbed the society of the glorious prodigie ?

Isn’t it that this man had no enemies ?

He caused the whole empire to be in uproar yet again.

But what is it about that James ?

Who is he in reality, besides all the genius and beauty ?

No one ever cared to wonder.

No one knew actually him.

No friend that mourned him.

No lover that would miss him.

No mother that would shed a tear.

Only a stranger that brought red roses to his grave after every ball.

—— -

The James Burnham I know was loved by everyone but lonelier than all of them together.

The man I knew hated attention and rushed out of the room to the balcony when the people where haunting him. The man I knew wanted nothing more than to rest. He wanted to rest and to find peace in the silence residing in his dreams. He wanted to calm the chaos in his head. To lay down the responsibility of being everyone’s desire and measurement for greatness.

But the man I knew is dead now.

The Hero, the savior, the perfect son-in-law, the wise man, the modern fellow, the perfection.

They all perished into the slumps of reality.

They disappeared into darkness and the silence residing in their dreams.

A simple life is all he ever wished for, is what he said that one time to me.

“I did not ask to be the man they all want.” he sighed, I laughed “How ridiculous“.

Gazing into the night he said “it really sounds ridiculous,… but I truly wish to tell them that they should search for their own happiness instead of trying to find it within me”.

Dark gloomy eyes and an exhausted sigh.

He seemed so broken.

That one time we stood on the balcony. Freezing our anxieties away. Looking into the nothingness of the night. A stranger that looked troubled even as if he would cry any minute.

It was the first time that I had been alone with a gentleman on a balcony and the first time I witnessed somebody loose their societyforced composure.

The man gapsed for air and clung onto the railing. Throwing his hands up and kicking the columns. Walking in circles like a wild beast. Holding his head that seemed to be too loud. Grabbing his hair full of pain. Sinking into the cold corner where he wished to be spared from life.

One single tear and a silent scream …and then.

Then he just looked at me with nothing in his eyes.

No life.

No hope.

No love.

I did not dare to utter a whim.

He asked me if I would know his name.

I gulped and said no.

He relaxed in an instance.

I did not know the stranger that was staring at me, now full of surprise. Why should I, is what I thought to myself. It’s not like he is special isn’t he ?

Sure he just broke into a million peace’s and it wouldn’t be very manly of him to do this infront of a lady. No matter how close they were. It would be inappropriate so no wonder that he asked. I would’ve stayed quiet. Especially because I kinda knew how he felt in that moment.

However this did not explain why he was so surprised.

Silence.

I drowned in silence and those gold brown eyes that stil stared at me. With a spark of sunshine in that cold night. The moonlight shone down on us. As if it was trying to force us into the spotlight we desperately ran away from.

“Should I know you ?” Is what I asked.

No Reaction.

This man was still in total disbelief !

Who is he ? Is he the imperial crown prince himself or what ? Is what I thought to myself. But he only stared into my soul with those eyes that made my light skin blush.

He laughed.

He laughed unmannerly but he laughed real. Free and beautiful. I had never heard something like that before. Only laughter with ulterior motives and bashfulness is what I heard. Now I was the one that stared.

“No” he said as he jolted me out of my trance. His voice was sore from all his silent suffering. It escaped for a brief moment before it returned powerfully.

“No you don’t need to know my name.” He stood up and leaned against the balconies extravagant railing.

“So were just standing here without knowing why and with whom we do so ?” I asked smirking.

He nodded.” You needn’t tell me yours and I will not tell you mine” he said. He was so happy about that, that I didn’t bother to ask why. I just stood there as well as he did. Crooked onto the railing.

Silently being next to each others way to loud minds. I couldn’t hear his but I just knew that this man next to me has had enough to deal with through life. I could hear his mind scream through his wrinkled forehead and the soft eyes. I could see his wish for silence holding onto his bare rough hands.

I could taste the desire that I was plagued with myself.

„It’s Amy“. I whispered so he could absorb the peace he dwelled in a little longer. His wandering eyes ordered me to elaborate. “My name is Amy” I said. He looked troubled. His lips twitched as if he was about to tell me something. I couldn’t bear it so I put my finger on his lips, asking him to not say anything. “Don’t tell me yours, I can tell that you need me to not know it right now”.

That’s when he first looked at me in that way. With those eyes that flickered full of interest, gratefulness and care.

“Amy…”.

A soft voice, a gentle tone, warm and comforting like a cup of hot tea during a cold winterday.

His mouth treated my name so gently.

No one had ever cared for my name so softly as he did.

No one had ever spoke my name and meant something good with it.

My heard sunk.

“That’s a lovely name.”.

I could not believe him.

I was thought to well that my name was an abomination that his sweet words turned into bitter regret.

Telling him my name. Sharing myself and one of my ugliest parts with him who had no name felt wrong.

All of the sudden I felt empty and cold.

I realised who I was and why I was standing here.

Out in the cold. On the balcony instead of inside where it was warm and where the laughters resided.

He must have seen it. The lonely shadow that my Soul had become because suddenly I felt that his eyes attempted to warm me. As well as his hands on my shoulder. They desperately tried to heal me.

“how come… “ my voice breaks. He gently shook his head. It was my turn to stay quiet and listen.

Our eyes met and he whispered while he confronted my sad gaze “why did you tell me your name ?”

He looked incredibly insecure and helpless but somehow he still worried about me.

Me, the stranger that spilled her name to another complete stranger.

Me, the person who showed a complete stranger how fragile her broken soul was.

Me, the Lady that engaged with a gentleman in a vulnerable demeanour.

I knew that he was afraid that I wold demand his name for telling him mine. And I slowly felt that his insecurity cured mine.

Comfort is what I felt.

I joked confidently “I felt like you should know it, after all how else would you come to remember the importance of the beautiful evening star without knowing her name ?“

It was a lie that revealed the truth. Just after saying that I got startled by the nonsense that just came out of my mouth. I blushed and looked at him trying to maintain the image that I just build for myself by spoiling my true identity.

“I think I like you Amy” is what he said. Smirking. I was flabergasted. What a strange man…

After that night we had met so many times “accidentally”.

I always looked were the quiet spot was. And I found him there claiming to be surprised to find him here. He then smiled at me saying ”seems like you finally found me Amy.”.

We would stand next to each other. Listening to the sound of the Silence surrounding us. Dwelling in the space we created for our selves. Talking or sighing till the party was over.

I looked up to him. He admired me.

I loved him. He liked me.

Now I sit here at a cold wet stone, mourning the demise of that strange man that I somehow stayed a stranger with. Drowning in memories.

We could have been friends or lovers. Acquainted or soulmates ,but I never got to know his name out of his mouth.

Maybe he was scared to tell me who he was. Scared of the consequences that would come with revealing himself.

Maybe he liked what we had and was scared to ruin it.

But I would have remained by his side.

I would have loved him nonetheless.

I would have loved that more than learning of his demise on our 5th strangerbeing anniversary.

—— -

I read the news and thought “poor guy”. Another man killed on the side of a road. With a proposal ring in his pocket and a bloody flower bouquet in his face. I read it before I even had my coffee and thought I was prepared to see who the unlucky man was. but when I turned the page and saw the picture I broke down.

Thats my stranger.

He is dead.

Shot in his back.

No chance to survival.

James Burnham.

Head buried in a bouquet of red roses.

Dead just like that.

—— -

The reporter on the TV speaks about his tragic death as James pours himself coffee, smirking.

No expectations can reach him. He is free

No mothers can come to lull him into marriage. He is dead.

No men will pester him with business. He is deaf.

No father will come beat him. He is rigid.

No Amy will look after him. He is sad.

No Amy will care for him. He feels teary.

No Amy will ever kiss him. He longs for her.