Fly High | ✅

✈ | Prologue

◈A D R I A N◈

I stood at the edge of the parapet wall, eyes closed and arms wide open. Jump! It's that easy. I kept repeating this mantra over and over in my head. This was the fifty-seventh time I've walked this path and stood at this wall.

Yeah. Fifty-seven times.

And I still haven't taken that jump.

Yet.

I let out a shaky breath and took a peek at the ground. Ant-like people going about their business, oblivious to a soon-to-be dead me. I looked up and felt a small splatter on my cheeks. Storm clouds were rolling above me, cooking up a storm to wash away any evidence of my existence. Great. I guess I was foolish hoping for a great sunset view prior to my death. I should have known better. Good things never looked my way.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to even out my labored breath. Pulling in the cold, damp air into my lungs. Once. Twice. Three times a charm.

That's it. I dragged my right foot, little by little closer to–

"What'chu doing?"

I whipped my head back, nearly losing my balance. There stood a man, cigarette smoke escaping from his lips. He merely stared at me, coolly. There was no panic or concern whatsoever in his gaze.

What's he doing here?

"What? You tryna be Superman? Or a bird?" He smirked at that joke, clearly pleased with himself.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Don't tell me he's giving this 'it's a bird, it's a plane' shit at this moment. Clenching my hands, I bit out a remark.

"Yeah, yeah. Imma test my flight skills now. Fuck off, won't ya?"

The man shuffled his way to my side, with a smirk playing on his chapped lips. I took a few unsteady steps to my left, eyeing warily at him. He bent over the wall, arms placed on top of it. Resting his head on his right palm, he held my gaze before puffing out a billowing smoke and said,

"Fly high, kid."

Fly high.

{Song: Clair De Lune by Claude Debussy}