an- sorry it's late. also, this isn't the completed version, but i just wanted to get it in :)
fall, fall, falling
She shines, shines, shines on.
And she doesn't need you anymore.
Because she's a star, can't you tell? She made it all this way, all the way to the top.
But if she's the king of the castle, then you're just the dirty, lonely rascal, sitting alone with your guitar, serenading thin air.
Oh, you must support her, though, mustn't you? Because what she's doing is so wonderful, so amazing. Imagine, a witch acting in all those muggle fiblms ("is that what they're called?")! How extraordinary!
And she loves it, of course she does. She revels in the light her fans bathe her in and laughs to herself as she sees her beautiful life, laid out ahead of her. She feels like a queen.
But truly, she is only monarch of your heart, and, cheesy as it sounds, she is one for you.
(You're the one for her, too, promise)
You were her best friend, right from the beginning. Because, at first, you were the same. Both overshadowed by your siblings, both overlooked compared to the rest of your families. You were the same right down to your date of birth, so you bonded over birthday cake and held hands as the world grew up around you.
And oh, you thought that would never change, didn't you? You didn't realise that, one day, you would not be enough for her.
That one day, she would grow up, and you would become…
So what do you do now? No Lucy beside you, not anymore. No, she's off doing bigger and better things, with more interesting people than you.
She's grown into her own person, without Molly to follow. She has her own career (fame), without having to rely on the fame her family brings her.
She told him she hated being famous.
But she told him a lot of things.
("Best friends forever, right Lorc?")
("I'll always be here with you")
So you grow up, and it's hard, because you're alone, but you manage, and you live a perfectly average life. Your job at the Ministry is stable, and your girlfriend is nice, and you're happy.
But it's not the life you want. It has no excitement, no passion.
It has no Lucy. She was always your best friend and oh, how you miss having her.
Sometimes, when you're feeling particularly weak, you switch on the muggle television your girlfriend bought and put on one of her films, losing yourself in what she's become.
Because she glows, and you're happy for her.
But you're not half as happy for her as you feel sorry for yourself, living this life. And isn't that just disgusting? Your best friend grows into a wonderful, fabulous person, and all you can do is sit with your beer, mourning the path you've chosen to take.
But all she is to you now is an autographed picture and the memory of lipstick-stained kisses (on the cheek, of course), and oh, how you wish she was not so far above you.