A tidal wave of cheers drowned Alana's own applaud for Matt as Dream Street ended an excellent set at BLI's Summer Jam, right on the water's edge of Jones Beach, blue glowsticks circling with excitement in the darkened crowd like shooting stars in the midnight sky. As Alana stood behind the shield of black curtain, she thanked God. She thanked him every day for making their shaky love survive through so much testing, through so many obstacles internal and external. Life couldn't have been any worse for a lost Alana as they were a few short months ago. Then there was Matt...the only thing that seemed right. They were deeper in the pool of love than before, their meeting place the catalyse for such a glorious start together. But maybe it was a more ambigous reason; maybe it was destiny.

The boys sprinted offstage, being bombarded by congradulations from management and crew. Matt swirved through the pleasent comments as courteous as he could to Alana, engulfing her in his arms and presenting her with a tender kiss as their smiles augmented.

"I am so glad I was able to come tonight," Alana admitted, her and Matt taking relief on a tan leather couch backstage, stressed calls for the next act, Michelle Branch, to get ready thrashing through the halls.

"I'm so glad you were able to stay," Matt cooed, sitting indian-style on the couch and running his eyes and fingers over her hands like they were books.

"How could Mother not let me stay after what you did?" Alana implored with a pixie smile, cupping his hand in hers. "She thought it was very noble. As long as I do not lie about where I am going anymore, I am guarenteed to stay her until I graduate from high school."

"Must be fate," Matt surmised, rolling his head around his neck, cracks of distress releasing from it.

"Must be love," Alana disagreed, her eyes twinkling.

Matt smiled as whiped his thumb at the corner of her mouth, stimulating it into a smile. As they leaned in for another kiss, they were interrupted abruptly by Frankie, crusing toward them like a mailman on his green razor scooter, all smiles and a letter attached to his hand. "Sorry to...interrupt," Frankie started counterfietly coy, stepping off the scooter and lowering the letter to Matt, Matt's eyes clouding over in confusion, "But Louie got a letter from a fan's mother today. You have to read it."

"Oh...OK," Matt studdered as he tugged the letter from Frankie's grasp, scrutinizing it closely.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening," Frankie told them with a wink as he hopped back on his scooter and sailed down the hallway.

Matt unfolded the handwritten letter and Alana looked over his shoulder, holding onto it for support as they both began to read...

Dear Dream Street,
My name is Ellen Rudolph and my daughter Suzanne was a big fan of yours. Last month, she passed away from Bone Marrow Cancer at the age of 13. She wanted me to get this letter to you somehow and I thought directly would be the best way. Thank you..........

Dear Chris, Greg, Frankie, Matt, and <3Jesse<3, I'm Suzanne Rudolph, one of your biggest fan without a shadow of a doubt. I'm not good with letters so let me make this blunt. I am dying. My days are numbered as Bone Marrow Cancer eats away at my health and will. I think you should know just how inspirational your music is to your fans. I am an aspiring writer, poetry always flowing from my fingers, stories always storming in my brain. After I heard 'Dream On', I began to cry. I knew I could do it, make it as a writer. If you guys as such a young age can chase a dream and catch it, so can I. After months of searching for someone to give me a chance, I met a wonderful man named Maxwell Bridgeport, Senior VP of the "New York Times" . He read my poem titled "Scarce Memories" about my demise and your music and teared up. It was in the Feburary 9th edition of the Times and I bought 7 copies of the paper. I enclosed a cut-out of the poem in this letter. Because of your music, I am now a published author, a dream come true. I am so happy that I could die right now.

Now that my wish's fufilled, I welcome God to take me home, dress me in white nightgowns and big wings, and hug me with a father's embrace. I can listen to your music live whenever I want, something I never did before, traveling in record time to wherever you are, tapping along to "Dream On" and "Gotta Get The Girl." Just in case you ever think your time isn't wisely spent, this letter should relinquish those doubts. As a final point, wishes do come true as you can read so never doubt what can happen. I will be your official Dream Street Angel, watching over you...always. I love you guys for all eternity.
Always a Fan,
Suzanne

A short sob shot out of Alana's mouth, her eyes glazed with fresh tears. She smiled to hide the tears leaking to her cheeks, swipping at them slightly. "That was such a heartfelt letter."

"I know," Matt agreed, his eyes glued to the floor in awe, the sweet and honest words still computing in his brain. "Do you know what my wish was at the pond that night?"

"You can't tell me, Silly," Alana laughed, pushing his shoulder playfully, "Or else it won't come true."

"But it has," Matt informed her, leaving the letter to his side and turning toward her. Bewilderment flooded his face, his eyes intense with disbelief.

"What was it?" Alana asked warily, the sudden change in his face influencing her to shrink down a little in her seat.

"That all my sacrafices would be worth it," Matt told her, picking up the letter with his right hand and tapping it on his left palm, biting at his lips and staring into the white wall ahead, shaking his head in relief. "Damn...this girl proved it." His eyes danced over to Alana, her head nodding in agreement as she wrapped her hand around his bicep and squeezed comfortly as if to say without words that it's okay, it was meant to be, meant to happen. "What about your wish? it must have come true by now."

"Stars are millions of miles away," Alana retorted, raising her feet to collide with her chest and lacing her hands around her khaki pants, "Who is to say my wish arrived there yet?"

"Stop playing with me," Matt scolded gamesomely, tucking a loose strand of gold back behind Alana's ears genially, his touch making her body rattle with delight.

Alana looked at the ceiling, a giddy smile placed on her face. She scooted over toward Matt, tying her arms around his neck like shoelaces. Her eyes involuntary batted flirtateously as she decided what to say. "What do all distressed princesses wish for?"

Matt's mouth jolted up into a smile, grabbing her in a bear hug and pinning her beneath him, surprised and welcoming cries launced into the air like rocket ships, journeying to the far corners of the universe with the never ending fuel of the sensation love, landing on a distant planet as alien star-crossed lovers sit on craters like humans do in cars at the drive-in and hold slimy hands and gaze at their tale, a tale they may have or may not have experienced. One thing is for certain; There never was a tale of such a love's covet as Alana and her beloved, Matthew Ballinger.