Cynthia was fourteen when she ran away from her home. Her father was a lawyer and insisted she became one too. Naturally, she faced immense pressure to do good in studying so that with her good grades she could get into a top tier law school in the future.
Cynthia, on the other hand, wasn't least bit interested in studying. She was more into art. From an early age, she was intrigued by the magic of art. It boggled her mind how she could fit an entire mountain in her notebooks with the help of crayons and imagination. As she grew up, she got more engrossed in Art than anything else. She was always doodling in her drawing pad. She used to draw whatever she could see around her using her physical eyes, and whatever she could imagine through her mind's eyes. The fictional characters and creatures were her most favorite. When other children were being introduced to the internet and were getting heavily invested in it, Cynthia was doodling quietly in her drawing book. She believed she could do any kind of magic with her magic wands - the crayons.
But magic doesn't last long. Cynthia's life wasn't an exception to that. As she grew up, his father became more strict about her education. He used to motivate her to become a lawyer and told her to focus more on the study, rather than wasting time on stupid hobbies, if she wished to become a lawyer someday. He tried his best to brainwash her to become a law student, but her head was already full of unicorns and dragons. There was no space left for his father's wish in that tiny head of Cynthia's.
At some point, his father realized that his efforts were going in vain. Her daughter was not at all motivated in improving her grades and her academic performance was rather declining due to her immense passion for art. This naturally made his father more enraged. He started blaming her at every opportunity he got for ruining their family reputation. He even threatened her to get rid of all her drawing materials, but her love for art remained unfazed. She kept pursuing her dream as she used to, this time with added determination.
One day when she returned from school, much to her surprise, she found her entire drawing kit to be gone. She searched for them all across her house but found them nowhere. Later that night after his dad returned home, he revealed that he had gotten rid of those 'nuisances', and now that the distraction was gone, she should be concentrating hard on her studies. That night Cynthia cried for hours before falling asleep off exhaustion. Since then she started to hate her father more than ever. She would barely talk to him and maintained any kind of interaction with him at a bare minimum. Also, her grades dropped even lower than before. This incited an argument between the father and the daughter as a result of which his father ended up slapping her. He didn't stop there and went on to insult her till she ran away to lock herself inside her room. This was the breaking point for Cynthia which made her decide to leave her home behind. She was still fond of her mother, but her hatred for her dad overpowered her affinity towards her mom. So, after elaborate planning, she packed up a small suitcase and fled from home.
At first, his father thought that eventually she would run out of money and return home. But even after six months when she had not returned, her father got worried and filed a missing report against her. By then, Cynthia had left the central district behind, where her home was, and reached the outskirts of Southeast district, to start a new life. This is the place where she became 'Cynthia' abandoning her birth name along with her past life.
Soon she ran out of the money she had stolen from her dad to survive on her own. Then she tried looking for a modest job that would pay her enough to make ends meet. But unfortunately, even a small job in Megacity required her to use the citizenship ID to register for. As a person who was running away from her house, using the official ID was the last thing she would do. Hence, she had to make her living from illegal means. The job that attracted her most was the dealing of drugs, which she herself got addicted to as well. There were several underground agencies that used young people like Cynthia to mediate the purchase between clients and sellers. The major portion of the market consisted of young adults. The sellers believed that the mediators should also be young adults so that they could connect with the sellers more easily.
The first time Nick met her was three months ago. By then Cynthia had become a Pro in her business. It was around the time Nick's mother became sick. He was known for being a clean guy when his classmates were getting addicted to weeds and crystals. When Nick's dad went missing, he stayed as strong as possible and supported his mother. But after his mom caught the unknown disease, it was too much for Nick to take in. He broke down and as a form distraction, he started smoking weed. Tony was the one who recommended him to talk to that agency. Tony used to be a huge addict in the past, but later realized how much it was affecting his health and quit. He would have never recommended his best friend the same thing that destroyed him both physically and mentally, but seeing Nick in so much misery and pain, he couldn't resist. Tony realized that either Nick found a means to escape from his hellish life or he would have to suffer from a prolonged mental breakdown. The weed was, according to Tony, lesser of the two evils.
Lying on her uncomfortable bed, Cynthia recalled her first encounter with Nick. One day she was assigned to a new client called 'Nicholas Fowler'. When she saw him in the ghost town for the first time, she could not help but laugh at him. Nick arrived wearing a black face mask, black hoodie, and black shades. Her entire body was covered so that nobody would be able to recognize him.
She jokingly asked him, "You didn't forget your bullet-proof jacket, did you?"
The boy looked troubled and asked, "Do I need one? Shit, I knew coming to this place would be a bad idea!"
"Relax dude," Cynthia laughed. "Unless your parents are super rich and famous or you are a wanted criminal."
Nick looked around nervously and whispered, "Isn't this illegal? What if someone catches us?"
"Dude, this entire place is illegal!" Said Cynthia. "Nobody is going to harm you or arrest you just like that. This place is in existence for quite some time and not a single raid or arrest has been made here so far. As long as we stick to our business, they will stick to theirs. Sure, selling drugs and weed is illegal, but the cops are not least bit interested in chasing after highschool junkies than eating donuts on their fancy couches."
Her words finally made Nick somewhat comfortable. He smiled and said, "Hi, I am Nicholas Fowler."
"I already know that. My name is Cynthia."
"Hello, Cynthia. My friend Tony recommended me to you guys."
"Never heard of him. Anyway, we are done talking. Have you brought the cash?"
Nick fumbled into his pockets for a while before producing some folded notes. 'Here."
Cynthia snatched the money out of his hand and forced a small packet full of marijuana into it.
"There you go. Have fun." Then she turned around and walked away.
"Cynthia, wait!" Nick cried.
"What now?"
"Could you please tell me how to smoke this thing?"
Cynthia put her hands on hips and growled, "Do you not know how to roll a joint?"
Nick scratched his head and said, "This will be my first time smoking grass."
"Jesus Christ, I hate noobs." She murmured, rolling her eyes.
Then she turned to Nick and shouted, "This is going to cost you extra, you know."
"I don't mind," Nick replied with a nervous smile.
That was the first of many. As his mom's health declined, his visits to Ghost town became more frequent.
In her line of business, Cynthia had several clients who never interacted with her more than it was needed, numerous colleagues whom she had barely known, a few higher-ups who were only interested in her for professional purpose, but not a single person whom she could call her friend. Nick was, she realized, the only person closest to being her friend. Since the beginning, Nick had often shared more than he should have to a person whose only purpose in his life was to provide him with marijuana. Cynthia struggled to understand why he behaved as if she was more than a drug seller. He asked her about her passions, her dreams, her hobbies, her future plans.
"You cannot do this for the rest of your life. At one point, when you have saved enough money, you should leave this place and do whatever your heart wants," Nick had told her.
Whatever my heart wants, Cynthia thought. I want to become an artist. But wanting something is not enough to accomplish it. I need money, opportunities, which my current life will not allow me to have.
Cynthia turned in her bed and looked at the cans of spray paints and markers kept on the table. To save money for paper, she had filled up every nook and corner of her apartment with sketches and graffitis. Once her own space got exhausted, she started making art on public properties, especially at the Ghost town. Her boss got to know about it eventually and advised her not to waste her time and money on something so 'stupid'. 'A stray dog has to fight for food and shelter. Have you seen any stray dog doodling?' he had told her.
Her dad, her boss - they were all the same. No one understood her passion. They all thought she was stupid. They thought her art was silly. Only Nick thought otherwise. He was the only person who complimented her artworks. He was the only person who told her to keep on pursuing her passion. And now he wanted her to meet a stranger who was also interested in art.
But am I allowed to do that? Am I allowed to step out of the darkness and meet new people just to satisfy my personal interest?
Cynthia struggled to sleep that night.
The next day was Saturday. Nick didn't have classes on Saturdays and Sundays. So he decided to catch up on his pending studies. He was stuck on a difficult assignment when he got a text message, which he received very few. He checked his phone reluctantly. It was from Tony.
"Hey buddy, I uploaded my photo on the contest website last night. Have you reacted to the post yet? If not, give me an upvote man!" The message read.
"No, I haven't. Let me check."
"Here's the link. Check it out."
Nick clicked on the link and a picture of Tony in black suits popped up. He was all suited up, his hair brushed back using hair gel. Tony was a handsome guy and the attire really suited him. No wonder he had already received lots of positive reactions in that post.
"How do I look? I couldn't make up my mind about what to wear and decided to go classy in the end. My sis clicked it for me." Tony texted him.
"You look awesome, man! I gave you my vote."
"Hey, could you circulate this post around your friends as well? That would help me with getting more votes."
"Dude, you know how BIG my friend circle is right? I barely know anyone whom you don't know already."
"Stop joking around. I didn't know until yesterday that you were seeing a girl who's allowed to sketch on your body as well. I don't even wanna know what else you have done with her. I bet there are other people whom you are secretly friends with."
Urgh, there he goes again! Nick thought.
"Would you let it go?" He texted Tony back. "It's not what you think it is. Anyway, I will see what I can do."
"Cool. Talk to you later, Mr. popular!"
Tony did sometimes get on his nerves, but he was Nick's best friend after all. Best friends are allowed to be irritating.
He was about to get back to his study when his phone started to ring. It was from an unknown number.
"What is up with people today? Just when I am trying to do some study!" Nick murmured being annoyed.
"Hello, whos' this?" He said picking up the call.
"It's me, Cynthia."
It came to Nick as a surprise to hear her voice. She had never called him before. It was always Nick who had called her if necessary. Their conversations were mostly limited to brief texts.
"Look who's calling me! The world must be ending tomorrow!" Nick exclaimed.
"Don't act so surprised. It's your fault anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"This girl you mentioned yesterday...."
"Rita Kendrick."
"Yes, Rita whoever, let her know that I am fine with meeting her."
"You mean you can't wait to meet her?" Nick teased her.
"Just tell her we can meet up. That's it."
"Ok, I will let her know and get back to you. Anything else?"
"No, that's it," Cynthia said. "And... Thank you!"
"No thank you, for the amazing sketch!"
Cynthia had already hung up the phone.
Nick relayed her message to Rita and put the phone aside. He couldn't help but smile looking at it. He was glad to know that Cynthia had gathered enough courage to come out of her cocoon.
The butterfly could finally flutter its beautiful wings of freedom.