Indigo

Chapter One

Tick.

The sound of fingers on a desk tapped out a rhythm, the only sound in the otherwise silent house. A long, drawn-out sigh escaped into the stillness, stirring the air around the computer that sat amidst the clutter, a word document open and empty.

Tock.

Another sigh. The mouse ran up the clock. Yada, yada, I get it. Callum Holten snorted and picked up a pen from his desk, twisting it and flipping it back and forth with his fingers as he stared exasperatedly at his blank screen. Flip, flip, flip. The minutes seemed to stretch on for an eternity, and Callum finally closed his laptop with a snap and a third overly-exaggerated sigh and stood up, tucking the pen in his jeans pocket and heading out the front door without bothering to lock up. In a town like this, you didn't really need to, anyways.

Callum leaned back against his door for a moment, hands in his jacket pockets and his eyes on the rain-drenched street. Highway to hell by ACDC wafted up to meet his ears, and his jeans pocket vibrated. Callum dug into his pocket as the song played on, and finally wrapped his fingers around his phone. Not bothering to look at the caller-ID, he swiped his finger across the screen and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?" He asked, still staring at the wet pavement that glittered in the morning light.

"How's that book coming, Holten?" Callum's literary agent, Alexa Grald, asked him, her voice irritated and her words clipped and short. Callum sighed again, running a tired hand over his face. He rested the back of his head against the door, taking in a deep breath.

"I haven't started," He answered finally.

"You what?" Alexa demanded, her voice giving away her shock even with how hard she tried to hide it.

"I haven't started yet. I've got no ideas past the first chapter. I'm drawing a blank," Callum told Alexa, his voice exasperated, more at himself than anything else.

"Well you'd better get cracking, Holten, because I need that book by the end of this summer. Finished."

"I know. I'll get to it, Alexa. All in due time," Callum assured her.

"It better be finished when I come to collect it, Holten," Alexa told him shortly and hung up. Callum shoved his phone back into his pocket and gazed up at the sky imploringly.

"I'm screwed," He muttered, straightening up, then adjusted his bag, and ran a hand through his short hair. Taking the few steps from his porch to the lawn in one small leap, he wandered down the road that sloped to the beach. As he walked, he seemed to get lost in his own thoughts, and soon enough his feet hit sand. The sand was soft and white, barely a single pebble gracing its grainy surface. Without a second thought, Callum pulled off his shoes and socks and left them by a log, digging his toes into the sand as he continued to walk.

The beach was empty, Callum being the only person on it this time of day. He watched the waves and the surf crashing against the beach and throwing shells up onto the coast, then pulling them out again as the water retreated, as if regretting the decision of giving them up to the sand.

As the water swirled and rose and fell in an endless dance, Callum smiled to himself. He had always loved the sea; the feel of the spray on his skin, the breeze off the water, the smell of the salt in the air. It was beautiful, quiet and serene all alone by the ocean. He didn't want to think about the book he had to write, he didn't want to think of all the things he had to worry about. He wanted to sit here in the silence and just watch, letting the silence of the peaceful morning wash over him.

Except he wasn't alone.

After walking along the sandy shore for a while, Callum noticed another figure doing the same, but much farther along. This was rather surprising considering no one was ever out at this time, but he supposed things could change. It was almost definitely someone he knew because this town was so small you couldn't walk down the street without seeing ten people you knew, and they would be the only ten people there.