It was the new year night. The gunshot was concealed by the sounds of fireworks. It was classic; nobody would hear that, nobody would notice the difference. Even though it was night, he barely needed his torch. The sky was full with fireworks, one after another, blasting in the middle of nothingness. It was beautiful, but he barely saw it. He was busy crying after the dead body.

His glasses were reflecting the firework’s color. Red, green, red, blue. They were flashing one by one, like the colored spotlight on the stage. This was indeed a stage, he thought. This was the stage when the main character was dead, and he himself was both the villain and the victim. He killed this body, but he mourned it as well.