Two Worlds Apart

CHAPTER IV - ADRIAN

Adrian stands on the roof of his family's home, a rusted patchwork of metal and wood, looking out over the winding streets of the Dark Slate. From here, he can see the faint, distant glow of the Upper Slate, its buildings jutting up like tall, cold towers against the horizon. They're so far away, shrouded in a haze of light and shadow, but even from here, he can feel their presence, looming like giants over the city.

"Dreaming again?" a voice calls, pulling him from his thoughts. He turns to see his father climbing up onto the roof, carrying two mugs in his hands.

Adrian grins, reaching out to take one of the mugs. "Just thinking," he says, shrugging as he wraps his fingers around the chipped ceramic. The tea inside is hot and strong, its warmth spreading through his hands.

His father raises an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Thinking about the Upper Slate?"
Adrian laughs, a little embarrassed at how well his father knows him. "Maybe a little," he admits. "Just wondering what it's like up there."

His father sips his tea, his gaze thoughtful as he looks out over the distant towers. "It's a world of rules, lad. Nothing like down here. People in the Upper Slate... they live by their appearances, by their status. They don't understand what it's like to live with love and laughter."

"But what if it's... I don't know, different?" Adrian says, struggling to put his curiosity into words. "I mean, they have all those big buildings, and everything looks so... polished."

His father chuckles, clapping a hand on Adrian's shoulder. "Polished, maybe. But I'd rather have the dust and dirt of the Dark Slate, where people smile because they mean it, not because they're forced to."
Adrian nods, feeling a sense of pride for his world, but the curiosity still lingers, gnawing at him like an itch he can't quite scratch.

He and his father sit in comfortable silence, sipping their tea, watching as the streets below come to life. Neighbors call out to each other, the sound of children's laughter filling the air as they run barefoot through the cobbled alleys. Old friends and strangers alike share food, stories, even a quick dance in the square where someone has set up a small makeshift band. This is what Adrian loves most about the Dark Slate - the sense of community, the way everyone looks out for each other, sharing what little they have.

"Adrian!" a voice shouts from below, and he leans over the edge of the roof to see his friend Daniel waving up at him. "You coming or what?"

Adrian grins, setting his mug aside and hopping down from the roof. He lands with a thud, dust swirling around his feet as he joins Daniel and Poppy, who's already halfway down the street, her hair flying behind her like a banner.

"Hurry up, you two!" she calls, her voice bright with excitement. "I want to get to the border before it gets too crowded."

The border. Adrian feels a flicker of excitement as he hurries to catch up, his feet kicking up dust as he races down the street. They don't go to the border often - the Upper Slate guards usually keep a close eye on it, and crossing over is strictly forbidden. But sometimes, if they're lucky, they can catch a glimpse of the Upper Slate's people passing by, dressed in clothes finer than anything they've ever seen, their faces cold and distant as they peer down at the Dark Slate from the other side of the divide.

As they approach the border, Adrian's heart beats a little faster. The narrow strip of no-man's land stretches out before them, a line of barren ground separating the Dark Slate from the gleaming streets of the Upper Slate. Guards patrol the area, their uniforms crisp and their eyes scanning the crowd with bored indifference.

"Look," Poppy whispers, pointing to a group of Upper Slate girls gathered near the border, their dresses shimmering in the sunlight. They move with a quiet elegance, their heads held high, their laughter soft and restrained, like music played through glass.