Intro: Laconic (Sideral Book One) (Published)

1

Venus

I sit cross-legged on my plush white sofa, swirling my coffee and looking into the sunrise. The view from the living room is breathtaking. Ten floor-to-ceiling windows span the length of the room, offering a one-of-a-kind view of the blurred sun rising over the Atlanta skyscrapers. This room is undoubtedly my favorite out of the whole penthouse apartment. The couch I am perched on is supposed to face the west wall, loosely sandwiching the ivory coffee table between itself and the media cabinet. The rest of the vast room lies empty, achieving, as Mother says, a "modern and minimalistic" theme. However, whenever she is not here, which is most of the time, I push the couch to face the windows. Nothing makes me feel as happy as the sunrise. It's one of the few constantly present aspects of my life—a reminder that every day is a chance for things to get better, for things to change.

I lift the ceramic cup to my pink lips, tipping the steaming liquid into my mouth. The beverage instantly warms me, chasing away the coldness of an empty house. After a couple of swigs, I nestle the near-burning cup in the space between my bare thighs and adjust my pajama top. I wiggle my bare toes as the heat diffuses through me, warming every inch of my newly awoken body. A contented sigh escapes my throat and I attempt to pull my shorts a bit farther down to cover my goose-bumped skin.

Today's the first day of summer vacation. My third year of high school ended yesterday with very little fanfare. A few students had been teary-eyed, hugging their friends and thanking their teachers, but they definitely were in the minority. Almost every student who attends Lee Marvin Academy has grown up together, all their parents running in the same well-bred and deep-pocketed circles. And thus, most of my classmates are excited to escape the overcrowded hallways and stiff uniforms in favor of vacations to tropical islands and long yacht rides, but all summer break offers me is the harsh reality of being alone. Granted, I am always alone, but the dull roar of students drowns out my lonesome thoughts and allows me to trick myself into believing that I'm not really by myself. In all sixteen years of my life, I have only ever made one actual friend. Everyone else is either too afraid of Mother to consider getting to know me or too busy trying to impress her. It's stifling and so very forsaken.

Arabella, the daughter of my head maid, is the only exception. She's about a year older than me and comes over when her mother does the weekly cleaning. For five hours every Saturday, I can let loose and spend time with my best friend. But every other day I stay in this too-white, too-empty house.

Mother hardly ever comes home. She spends most nights asleep on the futon in her office or in some hotel in a foreign country. As the CEO of a booming technology company, she barely has time to eat, let alone spend time with her only daughter. But something tells me that even if she had all the time in the world, I'd still end up anywhere but by her side.

I pick up my cup again and down the rest of the coffee in a single swig, chasing those thoughts away. I decided to ignore my Mother's negligence years ago. There's no point in dwelling on something I can't change. I'll just end up hurting myself more.

The sun has mostly risen at this point and I decide to get another cup of coffee. I begrudgingly get up from the couch and pad into the connected kitchen, cringing slightly when the soles of my feet connect with the white tile. The chill urges me to work faster. I pour the French roast into the cup, snatch the creamer from the stainless steel fridge, and pour a generous amount in until the coffee turns the same color as my tawny-brown skin. I also add two packets of sugar. One good stir and the coffee is ready to go. I lift the cup into the microwave. It beeps seconds later, but before I can grab it, I hear the familiar tune of my ringtone.

I let out an annoyed sigh and head into my room, the only place in this house with color. I grab it off the charger and answer it, knowing who it is by the ringtone.