He wasn’t a man of many words. But he had the eyes for detail. And for the moment. He was able to stay patient for three hours, waiting in his corner backstage without having to do one tiny stroke of work. No-one would take notice of him. But when the play on stage culminated to its peak, the lights had to change from bright orange to dark purple, he was there to bath the setting in its most fitting colours and smoke. And then, when he heard the audience erupting in a hurricane of an applause, the man was happy for the actors and that he had been able to be part of the success.

Darren Myles was the light board operator of the old and noble theatre in town. Most of the time he felt like a caretaker for every job the house wasn’t able to afford money for. But Darren liked his work. He liked being around all those people, even though they hardly ever noticed him. Not to mention appreciate what he did. But Darren didn’t mind. Because being part of those people was enough to make him happy.

And even better, he was always able to watch people from his place without them knowing that he was watching. There was a curtain and it saved his control panel. There was just a not very deep alcove inside the wall for this panel. So, Darren had every excuse to always let his eyes wander.

And there he was again: the star of the show. Young Ronald Fitzpatrick who received generously the second applause of the evening, this time backstage from his fellow actors and staff.

Darren almost forgot to change the lights again, so the audience was able to leave the theatre. But he did when he noticed the red flashing LED from the corner of his eye. And afterwards, Darren was able to watch from behind his curtain.

Young Mr Fitzpatrick hadn’t been here for very long. He had been arrived with the new play and already got the protagonist role. He must have been a made star on stage, so Darren from the start was slightly ashamed that he didn’t know anything about him. Even though he only worked backstage and nobody actually needed to know about him, he felt that he himself needed to know everything about those people.

The caretaker for such an important house should know about everything and everyone after all.

So, Darren had gotten the information he needed – and wanted – from the town newspaper and the theatre’s own bill for the new play. There had been the young man’s name, that he was coming basically straight from drama school, and he originated from the North – just like Darren himself.

Accidentally, their eyes met and Darren looked away as if he had been struck by lightning. He had been probably staring and Mr Fitzpatrick felt his piercing glance on him.

He wasn’t even sure what it was exactly that fascinated him about the new actor who always seemed to be in a good mood, who joked backstage with basically everyone, who had shining dark, almost black, hair – who had this deep and knowing look in his eyes, intelligent eyes that probably knew everything about the very human being the second they turned on him.

After a moment, Darren came back from behind his curtain. He wanted to catch the boy again – at least with his eyes. But Mr Fitzpatrick wasn’t there any more. The other actors were still standing closely together, talking about the play and its continuing success.

It wasn’t panicking what made it to Darren’s stomach but the feeling of loss. He already missed the sight of the young man when he just turned back on to his work that was switching off the lights that weren’t needed any more. Later on he would turn...