~Galena POV~
The bathroom lights were blinding in comparison to the night sky outside my window, my eyes were still half shut as I attempted to pull myself together and get ready for work. My head drooped in fatigue and I struggled to keep it level with the mirror, it took all of my energy to clasp my makeup brush in my fingers. Without even realising it, I always managed to stay up until the morning twilight, meaning I consistently start the day feeling tired and ready to drop. The night offers you a second to stop the clock on life and have the moment of peace you've been staring at the sun, longing for all day. Sleeping means saying goodbye to that one blissful moment and charging forward into all the responsibilities that the next day demands, I prefer to hold on to every quiet second I get, even if that means being exhausted come the morning. So I stay up for hours completely lost in a daydream, imagining myself with everything I ever wanted, no worries, no fears, nothing but my life without constraints and all the time in the world to live it. I see everything so vividly, every person, every setting, every colour is as clear as running water on a mountain spring. Strangely, the hours I spend in my own head are the most exhilarating of my day.
Just as I had succumb to my exhaustion and closed my eyes, my mother burst into the bathroom seething with the rage of an everlasting fire, I could almost imagine smoke coming off of her tiny body and her pupils bursting into flames. Despite her enveloping aura of fury, she stood poised and spoke with composure.
"Galena, do you know what time it is?" she asked firmly.
As with all interactions with my mother, I knew this question was a trap so I remained silent.
"It's almost 7am and you're nowhere near ready, you can't expect your mother to continue to keep you in line at your age, it's high time you started looking after me for a change." she continued.
At the sound of judgement my brain automatically turned off, I could see the flames continuing to grow within my mothers eyes and her lips moving clear as day, but my ears had put her on mute and I didn't allow myself to process a word she said. I could assume she was giving me the usual speech about how much of a disgrace my father was, how being in 'Class Three' is an embarrassment, and how only my diligence can save us. I wait for her to finish talking at me and I simply respond with:
"Yes, I'll do better from now on mother."
As to avoid any more conflict.
I spent the next 20 minutes quickly getting ready, I threw on a patterned grey blazer, my favourite black trousers, and some sensible shoes. I then put my black, curly hair up into a practical ponytail and headed to the tube station to get to work. As usual, almost everybody on the tube had their digital shades on, they all sat perfectly still with their eyes glazed over staring into space, somewhere far away from this world. This was always a concept I could never understand, my mind exploded at the chance to make my daydreams come to life and paint vibrant pictures of my fantasies on the canvas of my mundane commute.
Eventually, the tube reached my stop and I headed out of the station, I decided I'd visit my best friend Mallory at her café since I was somehow still very early. I walked with the crowd across the street in complete silence, one of the biggest noble laws requires silence at all times in public, there should be absolutely no talking at all, people must wait until they are in a building or vehicle to speak. The trees, the roads, the parks and everything you see was created by the nobles. While you are in the presence of their creations you must be silent as a way to show your graciousness to your community and to honour their Class. Only the nobles and the police are ever allowed to speak in public. For this reason, the outside air is only ever accompanied with the sound of shuffling feet, moving vehicles and leaves rustling in the wind.
I approached Mallory's café and peered at her tall figure through the glass exterior, she was so focused on rearranging chairs that she didn't even notice me. The entire shop resembled a greenhouse and every wall was entirely transparent and made of thick aluminium. Hundreds of plants littered every corner of the place, even the mahogany tables and chairs were decorated with vines. Once she had finally spotted me, she skipped over to the entrance and enveloped me in a big hug like she always did. I always despised hugs or any other physical gesture of affection, I much preferred to keep my emotions to myself, Mallory on the other hand loves to show her affection and seemed to constantly be hugging something. Whether its me, one of her million stuffed animals, or even herself.
Eventually I got her to let go of me and we headed over to her kitchen for some early morning gossiping over tea.
I sat down on a wooden stool as she filled her leaf green kettle with water, my eyes glanced over to a cracked picture frame up on the counter containing a photo of myself, Mallory and Ancel from over 5 years ago.
Ancel is a long time school friend of ours who moved to France to aid the nobles in their cause to crack down on the rise of dishonourables defying the Divine Hierarchy. He is the textbook definition of a believer, and has dedicated his whole life to upholding noble law.
"I had no idea you still had this photo."
"Yeah I was reminiscing about our school days and found the picture in a scrapbook at home, so I brought it here and put it up. But I knocked the frame over like an idiot and broke it." She traced her thumb over the crack and a sighed deeply. I found her clumsiness to be endearing most of the time, but the disappointment on her face showed she didn't agree.
I studied the photo intently and noticed a jagged tear on the side of the photo. I knew exactly who Mallory tried to cut out of the photo and a horrible lump formed in my throat as regretful memories crept their way to the forefront of my mind.
Mallory noticed the pain on my face and quickly tried to change the subject.
Did you hear about Ancel? Mallory asked excitedly "He's finally coming back to London!"
I gasped at the news while Mallory shrieked with excitement. It had been almost a year since we saw Ancel in person and my heart did a summersault, I couldn't wait to see him.
Then all of a sudden Mallory halted, "But the only reason he's coming back is for Zachary's anniversary."
I froze at sound of his name, and Mallory's face darkened with sadness. Despite my aversion to such acts, I put my arms around her to let her know I was there for her. She tried to give me a sunny smile to thank me for my attempt at comforting her, then she went back to stirring tea.
Zachary is Mallory's late husband who died of cancer last year. The anniversary of his death was coming up in a week and Mallory didn't seem to be handling it well. To make her feel better I suggested we have a little get together to support Mallory and to remember Zachary's life. Mallory is usually sweet and bubbly but with the anniversary approaching I noticed a constant miserable glaze over her honey brown eyes.
My heart ached for her, but behind her soft exterior, Mallory was the strongest person I knew. If anyone could get through this it would be her.
Just as I thought this, her smile made a return as she handed me a mug. It was as if she could read my thoughts and decided to prove me right.
We both drank our tea in a comfortable silence and soon enough my mind wondered to dream land as I fixed my eyes on the décor of Mallory's café. The vines wrapped around the chairs and tables began to grow freely and uncontrollably until they touched the glass ceiling, I envisioned flowers blooming in screaming colour as clouds began to form above me, rain tickled the transparent walls and formed a lake on the ground. A calming sensation came over me as the perfume of the daisies hit my face and the raindrops ran down my cheek. I saw a glowing figure dance across the room and I recognised it as myself. Well... A version of myself anyway. She radiated beauty in every sense of the word and I felt her powerful aura of confidence and happiness. The rooftop began to open up and the sun beamed-
"Do you think I should invite Devanté to Zachary's anniversary?"
I glanced at Mallory and crossed my eyebrows at her rude interruption, I then quickly turned back towards the café to rediscover our usual gritty reality. My perfect world had evaporated into non-existence and took every ounce of bliss with it.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even suggested that, forget I said it." Mallory continued, wrongfully taking my silence as disagreement.
"No Mallory, invite whoever you want, don't even think about me." I replied automatically without thinking, I was still mourning the loss of my paradise and wasn't in the mood for conversation. Then I realised-
"Wait a minute, have you forgotten he's in prison?" I asked Mallory, thinking all her grief had her confused.
"Are you joking? He got out four months ago where have you been?" Mallory said while simultaneously letting out a chuckle.
I stared at her in bewilderment, thinking she was trying to tell a bad joke or something. A moment passed while Mallory's face turned stone cold as realisation hit her.
"You're not joking?"
My mind raced with questions so fast they tripped over themselves and jumbled into a ball of confusion that I couldn't make any sense of. The only clear conception in my head was Devanté's image and the painful memories he left me with. My breathing became heavy and irregular as I tried to wrestle with the idea that without warning, while sitting with my best friend whom I always see, in the same café where we always are, while drinking tea like we always did, that somehow everything was different.
I felt myself beginning to lose control of my composure and closed my eyes to collect myself. Suddenly I was sitting at the back of that courtroom again, watching Devanté admit guilt, looking right into his hateful, rage-filled eyes, wondering if that anger would be the last of him I would ever see.
I opened my eyes to escape the torturous scene and I couldn't believe how much time had passed since that day.
"Why didn't you tell me this before Mall?" I asked, completely masking my agony from her.
"I'm sorry it's just- I thought you already knew- I mean everyone does. Galena I-"
I watched Mallory struggle to get it out so I reached out and held her hand in reassurance, I was sure she had a good reason for not telling me, she was the type of person who never did anything out of malice and always had good intentions.
Finally Mallory composed herself and continued-
"I really thought you already knew and I didn't want to bring it up because I thought it would be hurtful for you to talk about."
I mustered up a smile long enough to let Mallory know I wasn't upset with her for not telling me sooner. She smiled back to let me know she got the message.
But somehow, I couldn't shake off the hurt of hearing Devanté's name like I usually could. I tried to drown him out of my mind but he refused to sink, forming a pit in my stomach. His bittersweet impression remained etched into my brain and his voice echoed in my ears.
I looked back at the broken picture frame sitting on the counter, its cracks lay right over my smiling face and managed to extend to every one of us. Despite Mallory's attempt to remove him, Devanté's arm still hung over my shoulder in the photo. Clearly he couldn't be cut out of our lives completely, and deep down I knew it was only a matter of time before our paths crossed again.