Clay's life had always been a blur. He'd wake up, dress, put on his mask, and start another boring day. As the heir to one of the richest families in the country, he lived a luxurious life. He went through each day mechanically, never truly interested in anything happening before him.
He should be happy.
But he wasn't.
As he walked through the streets of England, he couldn't help but notice the puddles that were on the street. It was raining quite heavily now, and everyone on the block held an umbrella. Clay always liked the rain, but the downpour was quite intense. He looked at the building ahead, and a small sign in the window read, "Noveschosch's Bakery" in elegant cursive. Under it were gorgeous cakes and freshly baked breads.
A pit stop wouldn't be so bad.
Clay walked in, and the sound of music caught his attention. A small piano was set on a small stage, and a man who looked to be a few inches shorter than Clay was playing a jaunty tune on it with a large, happy smile on his face.
Oh, how Clay envied him.
He walked up the the counter where a tall, cheerful man in spectacles greeted him.
"Welcome to Noveschosch's Bakery! What can I get you?"
Clay pondered for a second, before speaking.
"A slice of red velvet, please."
The man nodded, and grabbed a cake plate and large knife. He pulled out a red and white cake decorated with pink roses made of icing. He carefully cut a slice and gently placed it on a plate with a surgeon's focus, before putting it on the counter in front of Clay, along with a small fork and a dull knife. Clay put quite a large sum of shillings on the table, way too much for a single slice of cake. He saw the man about to protest, but he raised his hand.
"Keep it."
The man looked dumbfounded, and then smiled widely.
"Thank you so much, sir!"
Clay smiled. It always felt nice to make someone happy. It brought a little color in his grey world.
He picked up his cake and utensils, and made his way to a small table near the stage's steps. The man at the piano had taken a short break, stretching his limbs. The silence was somewhat comfortable, Clay had always been used to loud banter and endless gossip, so a small break was always nice.
Clay couldn't help but notice the small puddle of water on the stage steps.
And the foot that was placed upon it.
Slip.
YOU ARE READING
Shimmering Crystals
Romance|| It's the 19th century. Wealth was power. Power was happiness. Happiness was a lie. At least, it was for Clay "Dream" Bryce, a wealthy aristocrat who tended to keep to himself. Hell, nobody had ever seen his face before. But when a young, enthusia...
