Chapter 一

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Rain has been my best friend for a while.

I know everyone hates it. But everyone’s happy, and rain is sad. Only people that have experienced true depression and despair can be friends with rain. And one of those people is me.

Every time the rain falls, I feel less like dying. I have company. Every single drop that falls on my shoulder or on the concrete is just like me. It’s seen everything I have. Maybe the name of raindrop that just fell in my eye is Ajahni, just like my name.

But I’d rather it be Christopher than Ajahni.

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When I was five years old, I was determined to become a writer when I got older. My parents told me that when I got older, they would do whatever they could to help me achieve that dream. And I appreciated that. But I never imagined that if my dream changed, they would abandon me if I didn’t do what they wanted me to do.

And I’m not the type of person that does what she’s supposed to. So I continued on my new dream of trying to become a singer/songwriter.

But it was harder out there in the world than I thought it would be. Everything I tried didn’t seem to work, even in New York—which is supposed to be the ultimate place for show business. I even tried to collaborate with people. But everyone I thought I could trust ended up betraying me.

I couldn’t stand the embarrassment anymore. So I fled to Southern California to become a new person.

“What are you looking for?” The man behind the desk asked.

“A career. I have a great voice, and I write great lyrics. The problem is putting my work out there.” I complained. The office felt stuffy and hot. It was dead too—I seemed to be the only one that was desperate enough to walk into a Career Advising Office.

“We can help you put your work out there. That’s easy. It’s just that we’re not sure if people will like your work.” He said.

“People will like her work.” Someone said from behind me. I turned around and there was a boy. He looked about my age or a little bit older. He had chocolate skin and the sweetest eyes, and his jaw-line was defined and strong. Then he flashed me a little bit of a smile, and I swear I got weak in the knees.

“How would you know?” The man asked him.

“I heard her singing when she was walking up the road to here. You’re very talented. I’ll help you get famous if that’s what it takes. People need to hear that voice of yours.”

I fiddled with the bunch of keys in my hand until I pulled out the one with the blue top. I stuck it in the lock and opened the door to my tiny house.

It was dark, but that wasn’t surprising. Even when the lights were on, the tall trees and their thick leaves towered above my house, letting in little sunlight. I closed the door behind me and rested my bag on the floor by the kitchen.

I passed the mess in the living room straight and went to the bedroom. I didn’t feel like cleaning at the moment.

I turned the light on in my room and flopped down on the low bed, turning the little gray TV on.

“Honey, I’m home!”

I didn’t feel like watching I Love Lucy right now, as much as I loved shows from that time period. I switched the channels until I found an entertainment news show.

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