CHAPTER 1 PG 2
The morning sun cast it's golden hue over the sprawling campus, draping everything in a warm glow that barely reached the dim, quiet corners of Violetta's room. The soft rustle of leaves outside the window was the only sound, mingling with the distant hum of the city waking up.
Violetta sat her desk, the music sheet spread out before her like a map of memories, but her eyes weren't on the notes. They stared out the window, lost in delicate dance of tree branches moving with the breezes, eyes reflecting the same muted longing.
Her hands, pale and slender, traced the rim of the tea cup, the porcelain cold beneath her fingers. It was still early, and the house was shrouded in a silence so deep it felt like an old, familiar wound. There were no echoes of laughter, no hurried conversations— just her and the quiet, the unrelenting weight of solitude she had chosen but never wanted.
Violetta Rosenfeld
Sighs *Another sleepless night*
Violetta moved through her morning with the practiced grace of someone who had long since mastered the art of pretending.
She dressed in muted colors that complemented her amber gold eyes, a trait of the Rosenfeld's, slipping into the clothes that were more armour than fashion. There was no room for the bright, playful hues that might once have hinted at joy. Not when the past, with its warm familiar presence, felt like a distant dream she could no longer touch.
She left the house on foot, navigating the familiar path to the university, the routine so deeply embedded that it is a easy breathing. The campus was alive with the chatter of students and the shuffling of footsteps on stone pathways but she walked alone, seperated by an invisible wall of solitude. No one dared to approach her, though their eyes followed her.
Some looked with admiration, some envious, some curious, unable to resist the allure of a girl who seemed to droft between the realms of reality and something more elusive, something they could never quite name.
Violetta now sat in her usual spot at the library, her fingers flicked over the pages of an international relations textbook, but the words blurred, the meaning lost on her as her mind wandered to the memories that refused to die.
The once music prodigy(although anonymous) , who received various awards, broke various records, named the best musician of the modern era, the pride of her nation, could now only produce grief through her music. She still played and still received awards, her every work being a masterpiece till date, but it pained every listener. Everyone who heard the music she produced in the past two years had all cried and even expressed they almost went into depression cuz of it being so sad and impactful.
She had chosen international relations, a field that required every ounce of her focus and required for her to mingle with world, it was an ironic choice— her way of trying to move past the chaos and find reason to keep going without him.
Marisol Midvels
'Skipped over to her, her face bright and smiling' Hey Lola!
Violetta Rosenfeld
'Gave a small smile'
Violetta Rosenfeld
*Marisol is the only one who could disrupt my silence with her bright. And to mention, she is a hopeless romantic and craves for the love in the novels. And my only friend in this sanctuary/prison.*
Marisol Midvels
'Smiling brightly, her eyes sparkling with excitement' You won't believe what I heard today—
Violetta Rosenfeld
'Tuned her out'
Violetta Rosenfeld
*Marisol is an excellent student who does law. But her romantic antics and her greed for gossip knows no bounds. But she is beautiful. A special type of beauty. *
Violetta nodded her head, prentending to listen to whatever Marisol was saying and got lost in her head.
Violetta Rosenfeld
'📱buzzed'
Violetta Rosenfeld
'Takes it out and frowns seeing the name'
Violetta Rosenfeld
'Looks at Marisol and offers a forced smiling' Sorry Marisol, I have to go. I'll see you around.
Marisol Midvels
'Concerned' Already?
Violetta Rosenfeld
'But she already left'
Author
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