❄ Cold Relations ❄ [SEVENTEEN] ✓

Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm (i.e. Vernon's Stunning Realization)

Golden shafts of sunlight filtered in through Vernon's bedroom window as he stretched, stifled a yawn, and glanced up groggily at the ceiling. It was barely eight o'clock, but he knew if he closed his eyes again, he wouldn't drift off. He had gone to bed too early last night to sleep in late. Dance practice had really worn him out.

With a sigh, Vernon swung his legs over the side of the bed and struggled to sit up. No matter how much he longed to stay under his warm covers, he knew he had to get up; it was time to face the new day. That, and he wanted to be the first one downstairs when his mom started making her Sunday pancakes...

Vernon trudged into the bathroom and studied his reflection in the mirror: curly chocolate hair and a distinctive jawline. Splashing some cold water on his face, he dried himself off with a towel and applied a creamy pink lotion to his skin so it kept its youthful gleam. Vernon tread across the room to wardrobe, his bare toes enjoying the soft feel of the carpet beneath them. He threw on a plaid shirt and some tight-fitting jeans without giving them much thought and quickly ran a comb through his hair so that he looked presentable.

Before long, Vernon was on his way downstairs. "Morning, everyone—" he stopped abruptly and gazed around the kitchen in confusion, the door swinging uselessly behind him. There was no one around. Vernon managed a crooked smile, though on the inside he was very nervous. "They must still be sleeping." He ran upstairs and checked his parent's bedroom—empty—as well as his little sister, Sofia's, which was no different. The beds were perfectly made, as if no one had slept there at all.

"I heard them go to bed last night," Vernon mused. "Where could they be?" Pacing with anxiety, he jogged back down the stairs to check for a note of some kind, but he found none. Then he saw the car parked out in the driveway, and he knew they couldn't have gone anywhere; yet, the house was deserted...

Almost obsessively, Vernon rechecked all the rooms again, which only succeeded in making him feel more lost without his family. For several minutes, he wandered the house in a kind of mindless stupor and realized that the atmosphere was different this morning. He entered the living room and saw that it was clean—too clean. There wasn't a thing out of place, when there should have been his sister's toys scattered all over the place. Swallowing a fit of panic, Vernon perched on the edge of the sofa and stared at his pale, shaking hands.

"They've left me all alone." Vernon's chest felt extremely hollow, now that everyone had gone, almost as if they had vacated the space they took up inside of him. He inhaled a slow breath and fixed his gaze on the picture glass window. What should have been a busy street overwhelmed with morning traffic was nothing more than an empty black strip. Leaping to his feet, Vernon threw the front door open and took off down the sidewalk towards his nearest friend's house. He craved the company of another human being, and he just prayed his friends hadn't disappeared as well. When he came across Hoshi's front yard, he hopped over the small black gate, tread across the garden, and burst through the main door. Hoshi was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of granola; a carton of milk, a cereal box, and a colorful assortment of fruit decorated the checkered tablecloth. Hoshi looked up when Vernon came in, but he didn't look at all surprised to see him.

"Morning."

Vernon couldn't answer straight away. Panting from exertion, he leaned back against the counter for support and tried to regain his breath.

"Hoshi... you don't know... how relieved I am... to see you."

"That's a strange greeting," Hoshi said, chewing slowly. "Must be American."

Vernon almost smiled, but his expression quickly changed to one of anxiety. "Hoshi, have you seen my parents?"

"Your parents?" Confusion flitted across the boy's face. "How would I know where your parents were?"