I FINALLY GOT IT DONE!!!

Here's the link: https://nanowrimo.org/participants/famewriter

Let me know what you think of the cover!

Synopsis:

Arlow is the only child of the Willowbrook Group one of the biggest investors in the country. She has everything. Two best friends, amazing grades, a bright future ahead of her, and even a fiancé that will be by her side for the rest of her life.

Yet it isn’t as perfect as it seems. Everything is hanging together by a thread that is ready to snap. Surprisingly, she’s okay with how her life’s been going and the direction it’s heading in.

When she stumbles upon a Genie that can grant her three wishes, she has nothing she wants, nothing she wants to change. Unfortunately, the Genie can’t move on until she makes those three wishes but unknown to her, there’s something different about this supernatural being.

Characters:

Arlow Willowbrook (Main Character) (F)

Jaemin G. (Main Character)(M)

Key Ahn (Main Character)(M)

Markyus Zee (Main/Supporting Character)(M)

Kenni Ray (Main/Supporting Character)(F)

Roles:

Arlow is the main character who seemingly has everything together.

Jaemin is the Genie she stumbles across who grants her a wish contract with fine print.

Key Ahn is her fiancé although the marriage is to benefit their family businesses.

Markyus Zee is her best friend who she's known since she was little and is the person she trusts the most in the world.

Kenni Ray is an exchange student but she and Arlow have been friends since she transferred. The two are almost inseparable.

Book Board: https://pin.it/2Tk5ZMZ

Book Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5xidYVLkU53ob4laAWT99h

Honestly, I don't know a whole lot about the characters right now but hopefully, further down the road, I'll be able to create way more in-depth character profiles.

Arlow wondered what dying felt like.

As she stared down at the churning waters below, her skin prickled as goosebumps appeared. Her breathe deteriorated into the air as if it had never been there. She was tempted to climb over the railing that separated her from the icy current and feel the coldness of the waters herself.

The urge to know the sting of death was strong but it only lasted a moment. Yet, a moment was all it needed.

Her white fingers gripped the smooth metal railing and she pulled herself up and swung her legs over. As she lowered her feet to the side walk once again, a breath escaped her lungs and a tiny smile appeared on her face.

Leaning out, she let her head fall back, her hair hanging in the empty air. She wanted to let go, to fall, and never have to see the burning sun shine again. Every time it rose in the fluorescent sky it meant that another day was coming and going. Another day without him.

She could no longer feel the railing beneath her fingertips but she knew that her grip was slipping and she didn’t care, just like when she stood next to his casket, people grabbing her hand or hugging her. Their words had blurred together into one sentence ‘it’s going to be okay’. That’s when apathy settled it, paralyzing her to the world around her.

Closing her eyes, she went into freefall but the euphoric feeling that she expected would settle in her chest was missing. Instead, panic flooded her hollow rib cage like concrete in a mold, making her fall faster than before. Her eyes were wide open now as regret slid over her skin like the water below her.

The moment she connected with the surface of the water, her whole body jerked as if she had hit the pavement. Any oxygen that had been in her lungs was now gone, bubbling in the water around her. The bright sunlight that she had hated so much now disappeared until the light beams no longer penetrated the water, reaching her.

Watery emptiness surrounded her like darkness on a starless night. The water burned her eyes yet she was too scared to close them, afraid that they would never open again. She clawed for the surface but it was so far away, so distant, so unfamiliar.

Her vision blurred from lack of oxygen and her body went limp. No matter how hard she forced herself to move, her body never obeyed.

That’s when Arlow Willowbrook realized what dying felt like.

She had believed that dying was warm, like a tearing sensation as your soul escapes your body but now, she knew that it was cold. Freezing. Lonely. And ever so dark.

This is how he felt, as he sunk to the bottom of the river, struggling to escape the icy clutches of the abyss.

Her chest ached as the thought flitted across her mind like dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. In his last moments, had he thought of her?

After all, she was thinking of him.

***

The first thing Arlow registered was the softness that wrapped around her. If this is what heaven felt like, she would be perfectly content to remain where she was, never stirring from her comfortable slumber.

A loud beeping penetrated the silence that had surrounded her and she flinched, her whole body stiffening for a split second. She knew what the sound was before her eyes were open—it had penetrated so many nightmares, haunting her as far as the deep abyss of sleep. The image was seared in her mind like a hot poker on the skin, making her shrink in confusion in pain.

The bed before her was so big compared to the shrunken form of the person who lay on it. The walls were blindingly white, the smell of antiseptics stinging her nose and giving her a migraine. A bandage was wrapped around the patient’s head, the only visible injury as the rest were hidden by the sheet. Blood was soaking through, the dark red contrasting against ever-brightening white.

As the beeps floated through the thick air, they deafened out everything else, ringing in a steady beat. Her heart kept in time with it and her chest rose and fell as her breathing synced.

What made her feel small was the rate at which everyone around her moved. No one stood still. Nothing remained the same for a single second except for who lay in the bed, white sheet tucked under their arm, eyes closed in peaceful rest.

She had hoped it would last forever, not caring that he was teetering between life and death. All she knew for certain was the fact that he was alive—for now.

A sigh of relief had escaped her lips and she’d allowed her shoulders to relax ever so slightly but that’s when everything changed. The room around her became nothing more than sheer chaos, catching her up in its flow and spitting her outside of the hospital room. The heart rate monitor was beating at a rapid rate, each beat bleeding into the next until it became nothing more than a drawn out scream from the machine.

People crowded around the bed, holding a clear tube to his mouth as other’s pressed on his chest, panic and adrenaline showing on their faces. Arlo wanted to scream at them to stop, to leave him alone, to let him go. He was gone already in her eyes.

Almost as if they had heard her silent pleas, they cleared away from the side of the bed but only for a second. They prepared the defibrillator and placed it on his chest, their

“Clear!” resonating through the hallways.

Shouts erupted as the body lurched on the bed.

Once.

Panic set it. She felt it rising in her stomach, building as it went.

Twice.

Her finger trembled, her arms and legs next, and then her whole body. She pressed her hand against her mouth, refusing to make a sound.

Three times.

“It’ll be over soon.” She chanted the words silently, body rocking back and forth with the natural meter of the sentence. Tears blurred her vision.

Four.

The scream erupted from her throat, tearing at her vocal chords and letting the tears fall from her eyes. People stepped away from the bed, slowly leaving the room. They brushed past her like she wasn’t there.

Maybe she wasn’t.

She turned her back to the room and forced herself to walk forward, away from the room, her body numbly trembling. Each intake of oxygen was a struggle, her chest shaking with every breath.

As the doctors called the time of death, Arlow Willowbrook was as far away as she could get, huddled in a corner in the abandoned wing of the hospital, staring numbly at the sickeningly white walls that surrounded her.

She jerked awake, eyes wide. Tearing the heart monitor from her finger, she yanked at the IV in her arm, kicking at the sheets. Arms surrounded her, holding her back as she struggled to free herself. The coarse fabric of the sheets brushed against her bare legs, making her realize how small she was in the bed under her.

“It’s okay.” They had chanted the words over and over again till they had bled together, barely cohesive. She was too panicked at first to realize what the words were but as her breathing slowed, they registered.

“It’s okay?” she shot back at them. “How is this ‘okay’?”

Markyus kneeled before her, holding her in place, his eyes meeting hers. “Just take a deep breath.”

She obeyed despite the urge to shake him off and leave. Every second she stayed in the room made her feel more and more nauseous. Everything was spinning, everything was white, and everything smelled clean, burning her nose.

Her fingers clawed at the tape that kept the IV in place. Ripping it off in one smooth motion, she bit the inside of her cheek as she pulled the small plastic tube from beneath her skin and let it fall, drops of blood splattering as it hit the smooth floor.

“I’m leaving.” She pulled away from his touch and slid open the door, letting it slam in his face. As she walked past the receptionist’s office, a nurse spoke up, asking her something, but she continued on. Markyus would tell them what was happening.

The icy air skipped across any exposed skin and she shivered, wishing she had a jacket to keep her warm. She waited by the door until he emerged, instantly regretting her decision to not leave without him.

“What were you thinking?” His voice was commanding and she flinched back for a moment. “Where you thinking?”

No words came to mind so she remained silent.

His shoulders relaxed slightly as he took a deep inhale. Looking up to the sky, his brown hair appeared more of a copper color and his eyes turned gold. She shivered next to him, hoping that the silence would last for a little longer.

Something weighed down on her shoulders, its warmth seeping through the thin hospital garb and to her freezing body beneath. Instinctively, she leaned into it, slipping her arms into the sleeves of Markyus’ Carhartt jacket.

“Was it because of him?”

The words hung in the air on invisible strings, turning slowly in the lazy afternoon wind.

She ignored them and asked her own question. “Does my mom know this happened?”

Seconds of silence ticked by as nervous rose in her chest.

“No, I didn’t tell her.”

An audible sigh escaped her lips and she stepped forward, hailing a taxi. She climbed in the back and he handed her a bag before stepping away from the car.

“You’re not coming?” She looked up at him.

“No, but I’ll be over later.”

Nodding, she shut the door and the car pulled forward, leaving him to stand alone on the edge of the sidewalk, shivering in the mid-winter wind.

His form got smaller and smaller as they drove away but she didn’t take her eyes off him till he disappeared completely. She sighed and leaned back in the seat.

Being alone had never been that big of a deal for Arlow. She’d always found a way to keep herself preoccupied but now, things were different. Now, she couldn’t trust herself to be alone.

She caught herself as she leaned forward, mouth opened to tell the driver to go back, to get him. Forcing herself to keep the words on the tip of her tongue, she clenched the paper bag on her lap and gritted her teeth.

Although his words had been annoying at the time, she knew he was right.

It’s okay.

***

The first thing Arlow did was change. She slipped out what she had been wearing and into a hoodie and skirt she had grabbed from her closet, pulling her hair up into a loose bun.

As she made her way for to the kitchen, she stopped by the fist tank in the living room and crouched down, sprinkling nuggets of food. It looked at her, its mouth opening and closing as it waited for the food to settle to the bottom.

“Life’s easy for you, huh?”

The Arowana didn’t answer, mocking her.

Straightening with a sigh, she walked to the fridge and opened it, leaning against the counter as she examined the contents inside. Disappointed but not surprised by the lack of appetizing foods on the shelves, Arlow let the door swing shut.

“Would you like me to make you something?”

She jumped, pressing a hand to her chest. Butler Kai stood there with an easy-going grin across his face.

Relaxing, she spoke. “No, I’m fine for now.”

She started her way up the stairs but stopped. For a moment, she remained silent, eyes landing on the pictures above the fireplace. An all-t00-familiar feeling settled over her and the bitter taste of nostalgia burned the back of her tongue. Cold water washed over her skin, searing through the flesh and hooking into her bones. Tearing her eyes away, she looked at Kai.

“There are clothes from the hospital in my room. Please get rid of them so Mom doesn’t see them.”

He nodded. “About tomorrow—.”

“We won’t be celebrating.” She cut him off. “Don’t prepare anything special.”

He didn’t argue but simple did as he’d always done—nod respectively and do what she had asked.

***

Lights flashed across the midnight sky as the buzz of people rose up to the stars. Lock sat in the chair, leg bouncing of its own accord as he watched his stylist in the mirror. His steady dark eyes met hers for a second, sparking a smile on her face.

“Last big fashion show of the month, huh?” She attempted to make conversation and, although he appreciated the effort, he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

He nodded, shifting in his seat. “Something like that.”

The smile on her face died and she continued styling his bleached blonde hair in silence.

Models swished by in their extravagant clothing, looking breath-taking in each passionately crafted design. It was obvious how long each article had taken as some of them were even hand-stitched.

He rotated his shoulders, trying to get the itch between his shoulder blades without popping the buttons while trying to reach it. The suit he had on was as uncomfortable as a burlap sack that had been lost in a pile of hay. Looking down at his bare skin, he silently swore at the designer for refusing to let him wear a shirt. His whole torso would be covered in hives by the time the show was over and he could peel the suit away from his body.

Everything about the coat was disgusting—from the way it stiffened around his arms to the way it smelled. It was as if they had taken the fabric from an ancient couch that had been stored in the attic of some ancient house. The scent similar to mildew made his nose wrinkle and no amount of cologne would mask it. It made him want walk out the back door in that instance and never come back.

It could be worse. I could be wearing a swimming pool down the runway. He tried to find something positive about the outfit but found nothing.

Straightening, he forced himself to take a deep breath, to relax. At this point, he couldn’t tell if it was the overpowering cologne or the smell of the suit coat that was making him nauseous.

A hand fell on his shoulder, snapping him back to reality. The director peered down at him, a knowing grin lighting his face.

“Alright, Lock, you’re up next.”

His stylist stepped back, making last-minute adjustments to the suit which made him more uncomfortable. He nonchalantly brushed her off and followed him, tuning out the casual shouts of encouragement from other models.

“Your brother’s here.”

He scanned the crowd, searching until he found the familiar face of his brother Key sitting next to Arlow Willowbrook. A hint of a smile appeared on his face when he saw her but it was gone before anyone could notice it.

“And—.” The director drew the word out as he bounced from foot to foot nervously. “Now.”

Lock walked forward, the blindly white lights burning his eyes. He would never get to this, no matter how many times he walked a runway. Camera flashes assaulted him from all sides and his chest tightened. The vibrations from the music ran through the supports of the makeshift stage, through the soles of his shoes, and washed over him like a tsunami.

At the end of the runway, his eyes connected with Key’s for a moment before he looked at Arlow, giving her a small smile. She grinned back as her brown eyes shimmered in the spotlights that intertwined this way and that.

His chest grew warm, his heart pounding as he turned and headed back. He had to make an effort not to fall in rhythm with the music but to instead match the pace of those around him. If he was one beat too fast or slow, it would throw everything off.

Step after step, his mind was empty yet his body buzzed from the energy that vibrated in the air around him. Every inch of him was alive as if his chest was about to explode from all the pressure.

It wasn’t until he was behind the stage curtain that the feeling faded away and he stood there as numb as before. The electric feeling drained away from his fingertips and his shoulders sagged.

His stylist was by his side in seconds, removing the coat he had on and slipping him into another, itchy and absurd outfit. A few seconds ago, he had been so alive but now, he wanted everything to end.

***

Rain padded down on the asphalt as Lock headed for the van. His manager sat in the driver’s seat, phone to their ear. He tuned it out and slid into his seat, watching as cars sped by on the freeway.

A sigh escaped his lips and Kevin looked at him in the rearview mirror, momentarily taking the phone away from his ear to speak.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” The words rested on the tip of his tongue for a split second before he opened the door. “I’ll take a taxi home. Get some rest.”

He leaned around the seat, ending the call as quickly as possible, and called after Lock as he made his way across the parking lot. “There are no taxis right now!”

Waving his hand in the air, Kevin leaned back in his seat with a frustrated sigh. “Fine, do whatever you want to do. Just like always.”

Lock was too far across the parking lot to hear what his manager was saying but he could guess. He’d heard it all before and there was nothing he could say that would take him by surprise.

His shoulders hunched forward as he laughed quietly, shivering against the winter air. It was impossible to count how many times he had disappointed his parents, company, and manager.

Stopping midstep, his head fell back, eyes staring into space which hovered so close overhead. He stretched his arm out to graze the sky but no matter how far he reached, he always fell short.

His arm fell back to his side as his chest rose and fell slowly, steadily. How many times had he reached for perfection, falling short by what looked like only a few inches but, in reality, was hundreds of millions of miles?

“You’re going to hurt your neck.”

Startled, he turned and bumped into Arlow who stood behind him. For a moment they stood face-to-face, neither of them talking. The fragile silence would shatter at the slightest noise and neither wanted to be the one to break it.

He adjusted his cream-colored hoodie and pulled the hood up. “Are you taking the bus or is Key driving you home?”

“Key already left. I was waiting for you.”

“So you’re taking the bus?”

“It’s two in the morning.” She laughed. “They aren’t running anymore.”

“I guess we’re walking then.”

Nodding, she started walking and he fell into stride with her, purposefully taking smaller steps so she didn’t have to walk faster to keep up with him. Several moments of silence passed and only the sound of cars speeding past them filled the empty void.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but it wasn’t what he was used to. It was like he was passing someone on the street that was going the same direction as him—they didn’t register his presence or importance and just passed by.

He glanced over at her, studying her solemn expression. Her glass eyes were unfocused and she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

Deciding to stop, he waited to see how long it would take her to notice. She continued on for a few more feet before stopping and looking over her shoulder, confused.

“I know today’s not a good day.” He stepped closer. “So thanks for coming to my show.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The smile on her face was almost convincible and he caught himself believing it. He missed the familiar light in her eyes and laughter in her voice. It had been so long since he’d last heard it.

He remembered the day the Arlow he knew disappeared. It would be a year ago tomorrow. Everything had been so sudden, so drastic, and the world had crumbled like a brittle house in a hurricane.

Ever since then, she hadn’t been the same.

Refusing to let himself dwell on the past, he reached into his pocket and brought out a metal charm in the shape of a flower. Upon closer inspection, one would see that it was a phoenix taking off from the center of a lily, symbolizing a restart, a rebirth.

Pulling her hand from her pocket, he pressed the warm metal against her cold skin. It was a tradition they had. After every one of his shows, he would give her a different charm to remember that night.

“I never want to forget this day.” Her words rung in his mind, reminding him of his first show when she had stood backstage with him, cheering him on. He had been there too, supporting Lock like a best friend should.

The memory burned like a flame and he quickly let go of her hand, her skin suddenly searing.

She extended her arm and he unhooked the bracelet. A few seconds later, the charm was added to the collection and he slid it back onto her wrist.

“Just a few more shows and you’ll need a new bracelet.”

It had been an attempt to lighten the mood but it only deepened her frown.

“If something happens to me,” she started slowly. “Would you miss me?”

As the seconds passed, guilt weighed down on him for not answering. He didn’t know how to—there was an infinity of answers he could give but it was hard to choose which one to pick.

“Yes.” It was simple and quick but the world stopped in that split second.

“I miss him.”

The whole night, he knew it was coming and yet it still caught him off guard like a punch in the gut. He flinched, face contorting as pain ricocheted through his abdomen like a tennis ball off a court.

“I do too.”

The mood was getting heavier with each passing moment of silence and it weighed down on them like the world was sitting on their shoulders. Maybe, in a way it was, because they were nothing more than teens that had been thrust into the adult world, fighting to keep their heads above the waves.

In a sense, they were already in over their heads. It had been a long time since both of them had started to sink and it was a matter of months before their feet would touch the rocky bottom.

Both knew that day was coming yet they continued to fight against the pull of gravity, trying to reach the top, trying to breathe. Maybe one day, they would succeed but today wasn’t that day.

“Happy birthday,” he spoke without thinking and instantly regretted it. Looking over at her, he expected to see tears but instead he found her smiling, the familiar shine returning to her gaze.

“Thank you.” She leaned against the railing. Cars raced below them and next to them, surrounding them in the sound of the city that never sleeps. “You’re the first person to tell me that. Everyone else has been too scared to say something wrong.”

He stood, silent, listening to her voice. All the moments he had been a mere bystander, watching as she struggled to find words, to express herself. He’d hoped she would speak, just so he knew she was okay.

And now, she had spoken.

He wanted to do something—say something—so she knew he would always be there for her but no words sprung to his tongue and nothing came to mind. So he just stood, content to be with her as she smiled—really smiled—for the first time in a long time.

Arlow roamed aimlessly through the streets of the city, letting the chaos that surrounded her swallow her up. It was overwhelming at times but at the moment, she wanted nothing else but to be drowned out by the sounds of life.

Stopping, she looked around, eyes scanning over the dozens of people that were around her. Each one of them had their own lives, different dreams, and desires, and they were so alive, so bright in the dimming world they lived in.

Someone bumped into her, their apology bringing her back to reality. She smiled at them but then they disappeared as if they were nothing more than a shadow, fading into the background.

Lowering her gaze, she walked, not caring where she went. Icy air cut through her light coat and into her core as she let her feet take her downtown. Person after person brushed past her when they realized she wasn’t going to move out of their way. A few glared at her, annoyed.

Finally, she came to a stop. She didn’t realize it at first but when she looked up, she met her reflection’s gaze in a shop window. The urge to stay there forever gnawed at her like an itch she couldn’t reach but she forced herself forward, opening the door.

A brass bell chimed but the delicate sound faded away when the door closed, dropping her into the silence as if it was cold water.

She knew the familiar melody of silence yet this was different, sounding more hollow and empty as if the place was solely existing apart from the busy New York cities outside.

Looking over her shoulder, Arlow frowned. Something was off yet she couldn’t name it. It hovered over her shoulder, barely brushing against her.

She wandered through the store, her high-heeled boots creating the only sound that filled the vacant air. Antiques and knick-knacks filled the shelves and tables that occupied the strange shop but not one grabbed her attention. They lacked interest, their once shiny medals now dull and boring, having no character to them.

The smell of cinnamon spice was overwhelming but it reminded her of something—something she couldn’t remember. The memory was there, in the forefront of her mind, yet she couldn’t grasp it. It slipped away like her breath on a fall morning.

Each step took her deeper into the heart of the store and farther away from the door to reality yet she couldn’t turn back. Something was luring her forward, something strong, the desire to be lost in the commotion of the city was gone.

She stopped. Whatever it was, it was close. Her heartbeat raced as she turned down an aisle, her steps quickening. Before her, surrounded by matted and blurry antiques, was a brass oil lamp with sapphire stones embedded. It glinted in the early morning sunlight that filter through the windows and reflected off of the relics that surrounded the treasure she’d found.

Reaching forward, she cupped it in her hand and lifted it, examining it. Every inch of it shimmered as she gently touched the carvings that decorated the sides. The bowel of the lamp held a translucent blue liquid that sloshed slightly as she turned.

“Would you like to buy that?”

The voice came from a woman with silky smooth blonde hair and sea-green eyes that were strangely large for her round face. She was drastically smaller than Arlow but she wouldn’t have described her as short as she had a vibrant look that played in her mischievous eyes, a grin lighting her lips.

She didn’t speak—couldn’t speak—but simply nodded, following the elfin woman to the front of the store.

“I’m Aerin.” She offered the information so suddenly, Arlow was left speechless, watching as she tapped a nametag which she hadn’t noticed before. “See?”

“I’m—.”

“Arlow, I know.”

“How?”

Aerin grinned as she tapped the price into the register. “I don’t know, you just seem like an Arlow to me.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Or maybe an Arlee?”

She stiffened, her hand stopping as she reached out to take the lamp from the woman.

Arlee.

That’s what he had called her. It had been a playful nickname but it was painful to hear as if someone had reached through her skin and grabbed her heart, twisting and pulling until the veins snapped like stretched rubber bands.

“Six dollars.”

Arlow blinked, reality washing over her skin like water as she pressed the money to the counter. She took the lamp slowly, mind still foggy with confusion, and pushed the front door open with her hip.

Aerin called after her, a few nickels and pennies clasped in her hand, but fell silent when the door shut, the bell mocking her futile attempt.

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped and it stilled instantly. “No one cares about what you have to say.”

She watched as the girl made her way down the street, weaving through the crowd of people that lingered to watch Christmas decorations in store windows. A knowing smile slipped across her face as she turned back to her work.

***

Disgust writhed across Arlow’s shoulders like a snake, looping around her neck and squeezing as it made its way down her back. The oxygen left her lungs, leaving her gasping for air as she stood next to Key, her arm on his.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she growled under her breath, digging her nails into his suit coat. “Whose idea was this?”

“My mothers.” His mouth barely moved when he spoke as he was too scared to let the smile on his face fade. “She thought it would be a good idea.”

She pulled her arm away from his grasp and descended, anger bubbling up in her chest. Her heart ached, burned, with each step. The gaudy shiny ‘Happy Birthday’ banner made her nauseous, causing the world to spin.

The urge to rip it down grew overwhelming as she neared the table but someone stopped her by firming gripping her wrist and pulling her back. Looking over her shoulder, she found Markyus’s soft brown eyes staring into hers, warning her.

She frowned, confused as to why he was here and not out of the country like he said he was going to be. “Why are you here?”

“Calm down.” He spoke. “I didn’t want to miss your birthday.”

His hand slid across her shoulder, pulling her close to him and moving her away from the table. Moving with ease as if she weighed nothing, he set her down on the dance floor and stepped back, looking to make he hadn’t caught anyone’s attention.

She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off.

“I know it’s not easy being here but trust me.” He took a deep breath. “Mrs. Ahn was just trying to make your day a little better.”

“It’s the death anniversary of Atticus and she’s throwing a birthday party,” she sneered. “It’s not very thoughtful.”

“Atticus—.” The word rolled off his tongue as if it was the first time he’d said it.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and forcing herself to tune everything out. For one night, she could pretend nothing was wrong. It would be easy to force a smile like she had so many times before but she knew that this time would be painful.

“I’m fine.”

As if a switch had been flipped somewhere inside her, she smiled and her eyes lit up as if they had never been clouded by tears and anger. And just like that, the Arlow he knew was replaced by a stranger wearing her skin.

“Oh, wow! Look at all the people!” Her smile widened, almost splitting her face. “This was so nice of Mrs. Ahn.”

“We can leave.”

Looking at him, her smile never wavered. “Why would we do that?”

“I don’t like seeing you like this.”

She stiffened, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t like it either but right now, this is what’s expected of me.”

“I’ll take you home, let’s go.”

His fingers laced through hers and he led the way. At first, she wanted nothing more than to leave and never step foot in the nauseating room again but as they neared the exit, she pulled back, her hand shaking in his comforting hold.

“I can’t.”

Above them stood Mrs. Willowbrook, her hands resting on the banister as she scanned the crowd.

Markyus let his hand fall away, freezing as their gazes met. The woman’s cold brown eyes softened slightly as a smile spread across her face. His first thought was Arlow but, when he looked down, she was gone.

Panic rose in the back of his throat, tasting of bile and metal as he swallowed. He gave her a polite nod and moved forward, disappearing under the catwalk she stood on. Once out of her sight, he took a deep breath as he dialed Arlow’s number.

“Where did you go?” He shoved his hand into his pocket, thumb hooking on the buckle loop. “You can’t just disappear like that.”

“I’m not ready to face her just yet,” she answered, voice muffled from the noise around her. “Please, I only need a moment.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as the people crowded around the main table parted and let the server through. The young man carefully carried a three-tier off-white cake with bold bright pink letters that spelled ‘Happy Birthday’.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to work.”

As the words left his mouth, the room fell silent and Mrs. Ahn raised her voice.

“We would like to wish Miss Arlow Willowbrook a happy twenty-first birthday.” The genuine happiness that dripped from her words was contagious and soon the whole room was cheering and shouting.

The birthday girl appeared from the corner, a smile on her face. It was real. The excitement making her eyes sparkle as she made her to the front of the room.

Everyone joined in as Mrs. Ahn sang ‘Happy Birthday’ as Arlow stood, her face alight with sheer joy. The song came to an end and everyone waited quietly as she stepped forward, taking the knife from the hands of a server.

Her fingers wrapped around the smooth marble handle as she cut the first piece, dodging Lock’s attempts to steal icing from the edge of the blade. For a split second, her eyes darted past his laughing face and to the front door where a young man stood, his whitened blonde hair glowing in the dark lights that reflected off the dance floor.

The sight of him struck something inside of her and her heart started to ache. Her smile weakened before falling from her face completely as she let Lock take the cake from her hand without resistance.

A tear sprang to the corner of her eye, falling without warning and leaving a warm trail on her face that quickly turned cold, jarring her to the core. She rolled her tongue against the roof of her mouth, trying to rid herself of the bitter taste of frost on an early winter morning. A shiver ran through her body, shaking her as if she was nothing more than flax in a rainstorm.

Lock, realizing something was wrong, followed her gaze to the door but only confusion covered his face. He didn’t know who it was and felt no draw to the person but the longer he looked, the heavier his shoulders became.

“Who—?” He looked at her and then back towards the exit only to see that the person no longer stood there.

Slowly turning to Arlow, he was startled to see that she was fine like nothing had happened. She nodded her thanks to those who wished her a happy birthday and exchanged a few words.

Casting one more glance towards the door, he shrugged and took the plate that was handed to him and decided not to worry about what had happened.

***

“Mom.”

The word felt foreign leaving Arlow’s mouth as she swallowed the metallic taste that lingered in the back of her throat.

She waited to hear the click of the front door shutting behind her before she headed for the kitchen, leaving her jacket on the back of a bar stool. She watched her mother who stood by the sink, as she set the box of leftover cake down on the counter.

“You knew I was coming back, didn’t you?” She turned, her smile momentarily making Arlow relax but she quickly straightened, well aware of what could hide behind a kind face.

“I had a hunch,” she answered.

“I was home before the party started but you weren’t here,” her mother continued. “But I left your present in your room.”

She could only nod a reply. Her throat was tight and her vision was blurring as her mind rewind several years to when she was younger, surrounded by the loving arms of her mother and father, standing next to her brother as people sang the all-too-familiar birthday song.

Absentmindedly, she made her way into the living room, stopping by the fireplace mantel to look at the many family pictures that were there.

Or had been there.

The shelf was bare, now void of the moments that they had captured as photographed memories.

“W-where are they? What did you do with the pictures, Mother?” she screamed, her words blurred together. She pulled back as she lifted her hand to touch the empty wooden ledge, suddenly feeling the urge to shrink into the shadow.

Mrs. Willowbrook appeared in the doorway, her black suit blending into the darkness behind her. Her dark eyes met Arlow’s cognac brown gaze but she didn’t waver.

“I got rid of them.”

“W-why?”

She struggled to keep her voice steady as she hugged her arms close to her. The room spun, the colors on the wall twisting together until they became nothing more than a blur, nauseating her as she stumbled, attempting to stay balanced.

“They’re gone.”

Gone.

It didn’t feel like they were gone. It felt as if they had just been standing there in the middle of the room, laughing and smiling like they always had. She knew that, in reality, they had gone for so long that any trace of their existence should have been erased from the present.

No words formed when she opened her mouth and no tears formed in her eyes. Instead, she stood numb and shocked, letting reality roll over her like the waves of the sea—cold and sharp.

Her eyes darted to the ledge once more, stomach knotting at what she saw. Those pictures had helped her remember when she started to drift into forgetfulness and now they were gone, torn to shreds in the garbage.

Legs weak, she fell to her knees a calming emptiness spreading through her body, reminding her of when she learned to swim. Her brother had placed his hand under her back and held her in place as she attempted to float, relaxing and letting the water hold her above its drowning depths.

She knew he had smiled when she’d finally succeeded but she couldn’t see it anymore. His presence was still in her memory but what he looked like, how he laughed, was gone, leaving a hollow shell.

Guilt weighed down on her like the world settling on her shoulders but still, no tears came. She managed to stand and robotically walked to her room, her footsteps echoing through the empty hallways that had once been lined with photos.

Entering her room was like opening the door to an unknown world and her breathing hitched at the thought of what memories had been painfully removed. Flipping the light switch, she scanned the room for anything that was missing but everything was normal, untouched.

She walked to her desk and settled in the chair, staring at the box before her. Her name was scrawled across the tag but she couldn’t bring herself to open it. Rubbing the end of the ribbon between her thumb and forefinger, she took a deep sigh and removed the lid.

Under any other circumstance, she would have been thrilled by what lay inside but right then, the thought of owning a Bugatti was sickening as her mother was trying to fill the hole her brother and father had left behind.

Letting her head fall into her hands, she sighed, the tears finally coming. They were scalding, making her want to wipe them away before they fell but she let them run freely.

A knock came from the door, her mother’s muffled voice reaching her ears. “My flight leaves in an hour so I’m leaving right now.”

She heard the woman turn to go but hesitate for a moment before descending the stairs, her steps fading out until Arlow was surrounded by silence once more.

Looking up, her eyes rested on the tarnished lamp she’d bought earlier in the day. It had shown so brightly but now it faded into the background, surrounded by pens and scraps of paper that littered her desk. She picked it up, surprised by the amount of dust that had already gathered on it. Running her thumb over the body of the lamp, she noticed that the metal was smudged so, using the heel of her palm, she attempted to rub it out but to no avail. Frustration started to quickly grow in her stomach and she decided it wasn’t worth the struggle.

After all, it was a worthless lamp she’d bought in some unknown shop.

Standing, she slowly entered the bathroom where she turned the shower to cold. She stepped out of her dress and slipped under the waterfall and rolled her shoulders back. Goosebumps erupted on her arms and it was difficult to breathe as her whole body protested against the chill but the tears stopped falling. She closed her eyes, letting the sound of water envelope her in a comforting hug.

A few moments later she made her way downstairs wearing fresh clothes and a towel wrapped around her head. As she passed the windows in the living room, she caught sight of Butler Kai’s car pulling out of the driveway.

She was alone now and as the realization registered, an eerie feeling of loneliness set in, starting as a small ache in her bones that grew until it had her whole body under its control.

Forcing herself to move forward, her phone buzzed in her back pocket.

“Kenni!” she answered, a smile involuntarily appearing on her face. “How are you?”

“I’m about to board my flight back and I have never been more excited to leave home. I saw a spider bigger than my head and I’m going to need mental rehab to get over it.”

She laughed, the sound echoing strangely through the room. “Just don’t go back.”

“Ah, yes, because telling my parents that their one and only precious daughter hates where they live is just so easy to do.” Kenni sighed.

The kitchen light switched on the sound of the utensil drawer opening made Arlow freeze and pull her phone away from her ear. No one was supposed to be home.

“Hey, can I call you back?” She felt bad for cutting her friend off but there was nothing else she could do. “Text me when you land.”

“Will do. Oh, happy birthday, girl!”

She said a quick “thank you” and ended the phone call, tucking it into her back pocket after she pulled 911 up, reading to call if needed.

Slowly and as quietly as possible, she snuck to the doorway and peered into the kitchen, taken aback by what she saw.

“Who are you and what are you doing?”

She pushed away from the wall and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the young man that sat at the island counter, fork in his mouth and a piece of her leftover birthday cake on a plate before him.

“Oh, sorry to scare you.” He smiled, dimples appearing. His dark eyes found her and a strange yet comforting warmth spread through her chest bringing a slight grin to her face. It quickly vanished when she realized she still didn’t know who he was or what he was doing in her house.

He had to be around her age, maybe a year older than her but his face had a certain childish look to it that made it practically impossible to pinpoint whether he was twelve or twenty.

His mouth seemed to have a permanent contagious smile that caused his whole face to glow and his eyes to sparkle. He wore a black suit coat that rested loosely on his shoulders, a white t-shirt underneath paired with a simple silver chain and circular lens glasses. Multiple piercings decorated both ears, glimmering as he twisted in his seat.

“Who are you?”

He raised his eyebrows in slight confusion and pointed at himself, his index finger against his chest. “Me?”

“No, Santa Clause.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you.”

“I’m, um, a—.” He looked around, eyes scanning every detail of the kitchen and taking it all in. “A friend of your butler.”

“My butler’s not here right now,” she spoke slowly, unsure of whether she wanted to reveal that fact or not. “So why are you here?”

“He told me there was a guest room,” he answered quicker this time, more smoothly. “I’m only going to stay a night or two. I’m just passing through.”

“He never talked to me about this arrangement though.”

“He probably talked to your mom about it.” He waved it off and went back to his slice of cake. Mouth full and icing around the edges of his mouth, he continued. “This is delicious, where’d you get it from?”

Irritated and concerned by the sudden appearance of a stranger in her house, she tapped the label on the box.

“Ah, Jaemin Bakeries.” He nodded. “That’s a fancy name. I like it.”

“Speaking of names, what is your name?”

She leaned back in her seat, waiting for him to finish the bite that was in his mouth and answer her.

“Jaemin. Jaemin G.”

“Jaemin G.?” She repeated. “Are you sure you didn’t just steal that off the cake box?”

“Why would I?” His eyes widened as he straightened, wiping his hands on a paper towel he’d snagged from the counter behind him. “And even if I did, why does it matter? I don’t know your name so why should you get to know mine?”

She was quiet, unable to argue with his logic. Instead, she decided to focus her attention on the cake he was currently devouring.

“That’s mine, you know,” she muttered.

“Oh, is it?” It was almost impossible to understand what he was saying but she managed somehow. As reality dawned on him, he slowed his chewing and looked up at her, a certain mischievous look coming across his face. “That means it’s your birthday, right?”

She nodded slowly, unsure of what to make of the person before her.

“Just a moment.” He pointed his index finger at her and stood, rummaging through the drawers until he found what he was looking for.

Sliding a separate—and small—piece of cake onto a plate, he stuck three white and blue spiraled candles into it and shoved it across the table. He clicked the lighter on and lit the candles before leaning back in his seat, satisfied with what he had done.

“What’s this? Are you going to sing for me?” Sarcasm dripped from her words like rain from pine boughs.

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s your birthday. You should make a wish.”