prologue

123 16 36
                                    

I'll let you draw the starting line.

When the fabric of the universe is so intricately woven, it's difficult to pinpoint the moment it all began. Every thread told a different narrative, interlacing infinite colors. But sometimes, more times than wanted, they snap.

Their story birthed out of death. A death that opened a new page, one of fate, and buried the contract beneath their bones.

If anyone were to take the world apart just to study within its lines, it would be Lennon. But on most days, he couldn't afford the luxury of a daydream. And his fatigued body proved him so as he got off his shift at the bar and dragged himself home.

Mist obscured the city and created soft halos around street lights Lennon strolled under.

Home was less than a fifteen-minute walk. He gathered his gear into his camera bag and secured it over his shoulder, taking a deep inhale of breath to restore his strength and shake off his nerves. This was an event he wanted his mind to be present at.

Lennon had done shoots before. He prided himself for his ability to ease clients into comfortability in front of a camera.

Today was different.

Today he will be working with professional dancers, discussing suitable wardrobe choices and creative poses. He had spent most of his summer at internships, gathering knowledge and experience his family couldn't provide him with. After all, college wasn't cheap and the last thing Lennon wanted to be was a burden.

"Good morning," he chirped, pushing the studio door open with his signature smile.

He was immediately greeted by his fellow interns.

"Lennon, we need help setting up the backdrop, please." Ms Torres snapped her fingers in his direction. Her long print dress sweeping around the floor, accompanied by large dangly earrings.

"On it," the boy confirmed, sliding his bag off his shoulder somewhere he could keep an eye on.

He loved the bustling of the studio, loved being part of something so extraordinary to him. This studio in particular was freshly renovated, permeated with the aroma of coffee people would bring in no matter what time of day it was and the complaints of spills and stains later on.

"The dancers are in the room next door, people," their mentor continued to rush, "Let's not keep them waiting."

Lennon made sure everything was in place before sneaking away from the crowd, pulling out his own camera to take a quick picture of the scene. Of course, his actions weren't seen as productive of any sort.

"Lennon," Ms Torres tutted from across the room, "We've talked about this. Put it away."

"Sorry," he peeped, gently tucking his camera back into his bag. But not before one last photo, just as the door leading into the other room burst open.

The dark-haired boy who managed to photobomb Lennon's picture was in a leotard, obviously one of the dancers. Frustration laced between his brows, phone pressed against his ear and he threw a leather jacket on. The mismatch of clothing suggested he was in a hurry... to leave?

"Is it that important?" Kieran spoke through gritted teeth, "I'm at a shoot right now."

He could almost envision his older sister's one-shoulder shrug. "Mom said it's important and she never calls things important, so it must be."

"Fine."

"I'm parked at the front of your building. C'mon."

"Okay, I'll see you."

I'll Share With You My Heartbeat Where stories live. Discover now