Stars fell and rained down from above, an apocalyptic vision. Black filled my vision, and I let myself sink into the bed of darkness, giving myself a chance to relax, to fall backwards into the inky sky. In my mind’s eye I saw everything - the rounded edge of Orion’s club, the flowing hair of the Gemini twins. It was beautiful. I knotted Sean’s fingers with mine and smiled. I loved doing this. Even if it was fake.

“The tour of the night sky has now ended. Please leave the theatre.”

The lights powered back up and the sky vanished. I could still see the faint outlines of the stars, twinkling and sparking as they faded backwards into the ceiling. Everyone around us was standing up - couples and parents and grumpy teenagers brought along by a stressed teacher. I stayed on the floor, my back pressed into a bump on the carpet. It was so peaceful and calming. If I stayed like this forever, I could never fall. Only fly.

“Leslie? We need to go.”

Sean pulled himself away from my grasp and stood up, looming over me with a grin on his face. “Up you get, lazy pants.” He thrust his hand into my face and I grabbed it. Yanking me to my feet, he kissed me, his lips brushing mine. Red flowers blossomed on my cheeks but before I could return the favour, he had moved away. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I stretched my arms, forcing the creaking bones to straighten and bend, and then searched the air for Sean’s hand. I held it as we walked through the planetarium’s doors. “That was fun.”

Sean glanced at me as we weaved our way through the crowd of people clogging up the museum corridors.

“You found that fun?”

“It was...interesting. I like knowing that there are other things out there. I enjoy knowing that despite popular belief, we are not the centre of the universe. I want to be reminded to help others now and again, otherwise I forget.”

Sean laughed and played with a string of my hair, his long fingers slipping between the meticulously straightened strands. “You are a strange one, Leslie.”

I ducked under a floating skeleton and grinned. “Is that good or bad?”

“In your case, good. Definitely, absolutely, unequivocally good.” I smiled and pushed my way through the heavy doors into the chilled April air. The sun was high and shining, a roaring lion with a golden mane, but it was an illusion. The air was cold and hard, sharp enough and harsh enough to raise goosebumps. I pulled my jacket closer to my chest and made off down the steps, which were slippery with frost and ice. Stupid Britain. Stupid weather.

“What about you? Did you enjoy it?”
Sean shrugged and jumped down the last two steps onto ground level.

“Meh. It was ok, but I liked our trip to the club much more.”

“The one where everyone was shouting at us, and trying to get a piece of me?”

“Yeah, that was the one.” He grinned roguishly and, enveloping me in a hug, winked. “I like fighting off other men.”

I squirmed under his grasp and laughed. “Not now, Sean. People are staring.”

Sean let me go and grinned, his face lighting up and his teeth sparkling in the lion’s glare. He grabbed my hand again and stopped in front of a statue. “Let them. If they’re going to be prudish, it’s their problem, not ours.” He leaned on the statue and crossed his arms. His skinny fingers stroked his collarbone, and he jabbed a plimsoll at the marble by his feet. I sat down on the statue’s base and pulled my knees up towards my chest.

“Did you really not like it?”

Sean shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not a cultural guy, if I’m honest. I enjoy the lower pleasures of life - T.V and ice-cream and Darren Criss. I have that and I’m set.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You do know who you’re leaning against, don’t you?” Sean shrugged again and I sighed. “You are wiping your sweaty, lowbrow back over the greatest poet of his time. Robert Burns. He came from Scotland.”
Sean nodded and glanced at the worn black marble. His skinny legs wobbled as he tried to keep his balance. “Huh. Interesting. Just like the planetarium.” He paused, and a smile ghosted upon his face. “I’m kidding. I enjoyed it.”

I nodded, not overly convinced. He had done this before. Said he liked something when inside he detested it. It was disconcerting. There was always that little bit in my mind that screamed he wouldn’t like something, despite his obvious joy.

“Leslie, we got haters. Three o’clock.” I blinked and squinted to where Sean was pointing. Standing a couple of yards away was a troupe of boys, hair cut into short peaks. Bulky hands were stuffed into oversized hoodies and muscled legs were stuffed into too small tracksuit joggers. One of them had a cigarette cocked from his mouth, and all of them had their steely eyes focused on us. “Sean? Should we go?”

Sean shook his head. “No. Leave them be. In fact...” He sat down beside me and held my hand. His eyes looking into mine, he pulled it to his lips and flashed me a quick, but beautiful smile. His lips brushed my knuckles, barely a peck, but it was enough. Crimson flourished on my cheeks and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from giggling like a schoolgirl. “Sean...”

“I want them to know, Leslie. They can look, they can stare, but it all counts for nothing if they don’t know we love each other.” He turned to look at me, his eyes warm and soft. “I love you.”

“Ditto.” The conversations lapsed into a comfortable silence, with both of us stealing glimpses at the boys. Sean’s hand grew tense at my side, and my heart was a hummingbird in my chest, darting left and right, trying to escape from its fleshy cage. Fear was creeping forward, inch by inch, into our hearts. I knew it. He knew it. And the boys knew it.

A minute or so passed before Sean whispered in my ear. “They’re coming over. Go or stay?”

I paused. I agreed with Sean. They had to know we loved each other. They had to understand. But would it be worth it? It wasn’t uncommon for people to be aggressive when it came to dating and pecking order. Not in our society. I gulped down a lump in my throat. “Stay.”

“Okay.” Sean’s body straightened as the boys got closer. They looked about my age, maybe younger. The expressions on their faces had changed from those of mild interest to those of disgust and loathing. There were five of them, and the tallest seemed to be the leader. He stopped his gang a few metres in front of us and took a step forward, his hands in his pockets.

“What you doin’?” His eyes were hard and sharp - he looked ready to kill.

Sean straightened his back and tightened his grip on my hand. “Sitting. Is that illegal now, officers?” His voice was sweet and calm, but there were undertones of sarcasm and hatred that only I could hear.

The boy who spoke took another step towards us. He smelled of smoke. “I dunno. Is it?”

It was my turn to speak. “I wasn’t aware of it. Were you, Sean?”
Sean shook his head. “I can’t say I knew about it either, and I read the paper every morning.” He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s illegal, gentlemen.” He smiled politely and squeezed my hand harder.

“Get outta here.”

I glanced at Sean, a bemused expression hiding the fear bubbling inside me. I had met other people like this before, but they hadn’t been as aggressive, as forceful.

“I don’t see any reason why we should leave.”

The boy’s face darkened and he reached into to the pocket of his hoodie. I saw something metal glint in the light. “Move. Get out of here, freaks.”

My grip tightened on Sean, but we held our ground. There was no turning back now. “I don’t see why we should. If you have a problem, you leave.” Sean’s voice was strong, and behind the boy, his friends murmured hushed words of confusion and anger. I heard the word knife. It ripped through me and goose bumps prickled my skin.
“Sean...”

He stroked my thigh and ignored me.
“We were here first. Now, if you excuse me from this extremely tiring conversation, I’m on a date.”

My eyes pleaded with him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was baiting them, his fingers drumming off the rounded curve of my thigh. He was smiling. He knew they were angry, he knew they were frustrated and he was enjoying it. He wanted them to give up, for them to realise our togetherness wasn’t a problem. He hadn’t heard the whispers. He hadn’t seen the hilt of the blade. “Sean...”

The boy had taken a step forward, his face set in a frown. His hand tightened in his hoodie pocket.

“You wanna say that again?”

“Sean...we should go...”

“Not now, Leslie.” He looked the boy in the eyes and stood up. He was tall and lanky, looming over the boy with his gangly frame. “I said that you should leave. It’s not my problem if you hate me. Now, please leave me to get on with my date.”

The boy creased his brow further.
“It’s you people that are wrecking the country. You freaks.” He pouted and spat a blob of saliva at Sean’s foot. It landed on the tip of his Converse, and Sean bristled.

“You want to try that again?”

The boy hesitated. He was looking Sean up and down, examining, determining the threat. Apparently there was none, for a few moments later a bigger ball of spit hurtled through the air. This time it landed on my hair. I barely noticed it - all I saw was Sean’s face darken and his hands ball into fists.

“Say sorry.”

The boy cocked his head and showed a cheeky grin of yellowing teeth and broken, bleeding gums. “What? I couldn’t hear you.” The group behind him tittered.

Sean clenched his teeth. “I said, say sorry.” I stood up beside him and curled my hand around his tensed fist, locking it in mine.

“It’s fine, Sean. Let’s just go. We don’t need to bother with people like this.”

He glanced at me. His eyes burned with fire and his mouth was twisted into a snarl. “No. They need to apologize.” He turned back to the boys. “Say sorry.”

The alpha male took a step forward, still grinning. “To who? You or your date?”

“Leslie. Say sorry to Leslie.”

The boy looked at me and then sank into a curtsey. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, Miss.”

That was enough to make Sean snap. I remember the exact moment it happened. His body went rigid and his jaw slackened. His nostrils flared and he pulled away from my touch. I remember telling him to stop, to leave them be, to see the knife, to see the danger, but he ignored me, he ignored my pleas as he walked up to the boy, whose hand was coming out of his hoodie pocket. I saw the tip of a shining blade poke out through the fabric. “Sean!”

It was all over in an instant. Sean towered over the boy, pulled his hand back into a fist, and that was when the blade went in. The boy said something as the knife cut through his chest - gay fag, I think it was. The doctors afterwards told me it had gone in between the ribs, and pierced his heart. I didn’t notice. All I saw a blood red rose blooming on his purple top and his body curling inwards in pain. And I remember his shriek. In movies people never scream when they’re stabbed. The movies are wrong. I remember him collapsing on the ground, his hand clenched to his side, staring up at his attacker as he streaked away, a trail of smoke following him as he ran through the streets. Soon he was gone. Stabbed my boyfriend and then left, his troupe at his side.

“Sean!” I rushed over to him and clasped my hand to his side. I slid his head onto my knees, cradling it in my shaking hands “Someone call an ambulance!” People were staring all around the park. Words flowed through the air, drifting along as people whispered amongst each other - gay, murder, crime. They were frozen, unsure what to do about it. Then a woman, her hair smelling of lavender and roses, ran towards me and pulled a phone out her pocket. She pressed a few buttons and started talking. She was asking me things. What his name was. Who I was. Who the boys were.

“Jonathan. My name’s Jonathan Leslie Grace.” The air was full of blood and vomit, and the world span around me. The woman was still talking, her hand a vice grip on my shoulder. Sean, Sean, Sean...

The first thing I saw with him that morning were the stars. And the last thing I saw before he died were fireworks, exploding in my head.