Red Giants are stars, more specifically, dying stars. They burn brighter, hotter than usual stars but a low surface temperature. Hydrogen required to fuel nuclear fusion within the star is depleted and it slowly dies.

He is a dreamer, a fighter. But he is also tired. The people closest to him have denied him hope. The red, of blood he has seen. He turns his back and walks away. 

He realises that dreams change, and he has changed. People around him change and agendas change. He puts his dreams away, but not totally. It get side lined, maybe never seeing light again. White, light. It shines. But only from behind, just as if slowly pushing him to the edge. 

He is dead. Dreams are dead. The capitalistic ideal that he once fought has finally consumed him. He doesn’t blame the people, or the society. He blames himself. The black itself is a void, the emptiness never leaves.

And slowly, the red giant dies and becomes the white dwarf. It eventually becomes a void, empty, a black hole.