The pure normality of the bright and waking morning would suggest that it was a completely ordinary and peaceful day. But that wasn't the case exactly.

Echoing chirps and morning songs of magpie-larks rang through the air on the wind that channeled them down into the streets below, a sure sign of a lively day. Gentle pink galahs and noisy kookaburras chattered in the trees of the local parks as passers-by made their way to work for the morning. The dew of the rainy night before rested on the refreshed plants and the city was green with life. For most, it had been a long weekend of celebration, being early November and very much towards the end of the work year. School kids in their higher grades swarmed the streets that Monday morning, ready to take on the holidays with bounds of energy. The bodies on their way to a destination filled the city streets, so much so that some people had to push by to get to busy areas like the bus interchange.

7:55 A.M was the time the bus arrived at the interchange every weekday morning, as well as 6:45 P.M every night within the outer suburbs. The inner city was busy with busses and trams most hours, commuting the busiest of business athletes. Even then, the number 67 bus was the easiest to pick out, being a unique character of sorts. The driver always arrived on time, coffee in hand, head in the clouds. This was the thrill of taking the 67 every morning, knowing that one day everything could end up terribly wrong, all due to the lousy driving manner of an underpaid fifty-something-year-old.

Despite this, there were certainly some benefits to taking the bus. It was the cheapest ride, being the most poorly maintained and under-staffed bus in the city. It was well ridden and just as equally worn down by local delinquents. A splash of yellow and brown paint coated its left side, bearing the name of 'Lousy Lemon’, an unintentionally ugly display brought by the artist's lack of care and detail. The assigned bus driver had no care for how poorly or otherwise the graffiti characterized the vehicle. It wasn’t like he managed the cleanliness of the bus either, never having used the provided mops or brooms. Because of these factors, an hour on the ride would only cost a maximum of a dollar. The trip wasn't worth any more than that.

For one girl, however, none of this mattered, for there was only one reason she took this particular bus every morning:

A simple wish for peace and quiet.

Jogging down the pathway towards the bus, the young girl hastily tied up a small tuft of her dark-brown hair in a fairly pointless ponytail. She had no need to tie all her hair up, it was simply for the look. She had carefully zig-zagged her way through the morning commute traffic, shouting her sorries and excuses through the crowds of people. Somehow, this was something she enjoyed every morning; the excitement of city life always filled her with adrenaline.

Halting to a stop at the front of bus 67, she waited for the folding door to slowly creak open. She had grown used to the tired and rusted sound of that door and she somewhat pitied the bus, thinking it should have been put out of its misery after its years of service.

Quickly checking her pockets for change, she hopped into the bus entrance to purchase her one-way ticket. As usual, she held her hand out, full of spare coins from the day before, waiting for the driver to offer his hand and accept it. This exchange had been a sunrise ritual for so long that the driver no longer counted the change, expecting the girl to arrive with the correct amount every time. He wouldn't have been too fussed if it were incorrect anyway. The ticket printed from the middle console, an old machine whose paper was yellow with age, but the girl still took it every morning for her record. The driver cleared his throat once she had done so, his voice a low and tired grumble.

"Name?"

It was the single-worded question he never failed to ask, short and demanding. As always, she replied kindly with a nod.

"Harper, thank you."

There was no response in return from the driver as he sipped on his coffee, motioning with his spare hand for her to continue onto the bus.

Harper didn't mind the fact that she had to remind him of her name every morning. Although, it was a bit inconvenient considering how autonomous the rest of the routine had been. She supposed it was lucky he hadn't retained it in his mind for personal security reasons. If she ever had to skip town unnoticed, an unlikely situation, she was oddly prepared because of this. She would never have been remembered by the one person who saw her every day.

Making her way to the back of the bus, she made a point of not touching anything else besides the seat she normally sat in. Just because she didn't mind taking the old bus, it didn't mean she wasn't wary of germs and unclean areas. She only trusted the seat that she cleaned and occupied with every trip, twice daily. Coincidentally, it was also the only seat in the bus with a reasonable window view of the street. The rest had their windows fogged and clogged with dust so thick, it was a wonder that the air was still breathable inside. Being the first person to board the bus on its morning route, she easily had claims to this particularly excellent seat.

Harper was very much a morning person. She was always the first awake in her household every morning, the household being a shared apartment with a group of other young adolescents attending their studies. Because of this, she often went to bed early. Unusually, she had been to a party the night before in celebration of the approaching holidays. So as she stared out of the bus window, the sunlight beaming through was muted by the foggy film covering her tired eyes. She didn't mind though; any sunlight was good sunlight in her optimistic mind.

Oftentimes, Harper would show herself to be a very bubbly and bright personality, that was until she would shoot back with a sarcastic comment. She prided herself in being very witty, despite how people might perceive her from outward looks alone. She claimed to be a victim to what she liked to call 'the pretty curse', a curse on those pretty enough to be teased and outcast for it. Although she meant it jokingly. Despite all this, Harper was a caring person who had a gentle approach to helping her friends. Most days she would buy them lunch if her credit card allowed for it. Other days she opted to help with their emotional troubles. It was all in a day's work for her.

The driver had begrudgingly put down his coffee as Harper took her seat, shifting the bus into drive. Crossing her legs and staring out the window at the life passing by, she couldn't help but feel calm. The soft morning sun rose just above the tall buildings of the suburban Australian city, casting a spherical beam effect on the roads below.

Today, Harper had decided to wear her usual daily outfit, even though this wasn't an ordinary day for her. With a short-sleeved black shirt underneath her half-length hoodie, it was enough to keep her warm on the windiest of mornings. This was paired with a short sports skirt with thigh-high stockings. She wore this outfit most days in case she decided to practise in the studio or go on a jog, two of her favourite daily activities.

This morning had been marked as the breakfast meetup with some of her classmates, who were certainly closer to being friends than anything. The group had this date booked out for weeks now, scheduled during their study holidays. Harper was overjoyed at the aspect of still being able to meet her friends, even during the break. Her studies often kept her busy, so she was concerned that she came off as pushy about practicing or overly concerned about perfecting her assignments. In no way did she want to be seen as a try-hard or an overworking and under-delivering student. Today she had the opportunity to show she was fun and free as opposed to being a stick-in-the-mud about her academics.

Being twenty-one years old, Harper didn't attend secondary school, having graduated a few years prior. Instead, she was enrolled in a special arts academy for excelling and talented students, something she was remarkably proud of. The SilkenArts Academy was well-renowned for educating in a variety of recreational and artistic activities from singing, dancing, and acting performances to traditional art and modern design. After Harper graduated high school, she began to pursue her career at the academy in the forms of acting and dancing. It was her dream to eventually be recognised as a classical ballroom dancer, as well as a musical theatre actor. It wasn't an easy route to take, as anyone knew that dancing as a career was physically taxing on even the most active of people. Acting wasn't particularly easy to excel in either unless one had been brought up with the practise. Harper believed she had the skills and athleticism to take it on, however.

The bus took off into the main street after sitting at a red light, merging in front of a small beetle-like car that didn't seem incredibly happy about the close scrape of a movement. As usual, Harper took no notice of the bus driver's terrible road manners, turning a blind eye to the situation.

Her mind was busy with the weekly concerns and events of her life. In a week, she was supposed to perform in a country-wide dance competition with her dance partner. Being the most coordinated couple in the class, they were picked for the S-rank section and were expected to return with no less than a gold medal. Not only that but tonight there was a ceremony being held at the local theatre, run by the academy. Her partner had a time slot allocated for a speech, something he was supposed to do every year because of his rank in the class.

Dance partners at SilkenArts were picked at random once every term. However, Harper and her partner had worked so well together in their first performance that the academy decided against splitting them up. For this reason alone, Harper had to keep his number at the ready in her phone contacts. Not that she really minded at all. He was nice enough, just a bit blunt in nature, which was why it was always up to her to brighten the mood of their conversations.

She turned on the screen of her phone to look at the wallpaper of them standing together, Harper with her arm around his shoulder to pull him into view of the camera. It was the only picture she had of them both smiling, which the other half of the pair rarely did. Especially in front of a camera, she found that he didn’t want any image of himself to be retained, especially on a phone like Harper’s where she often displayed the images she took publicly. Harper had been told on multiple occasions not to save pictures of him, but she secretly kept this one for herself. How else was she supposed to remember him when they were apart otherwise?

She unlocked her phone and stared at the open text box on her screen, debating whether or not to text him. The name at the top of the screen simply contained the 'globe' emoticon, an inside joke between the two of them. She wasn’t sure if he found it as jovial as she did though. 

As per Harper’s experience with him, she guessed that he would be drop-dead asleep at the moment, as he had previously explained that sleeping was his only plan for the study break. This was the reason she even hesitated to message him at this time. It wasn't the main issue, however, because there had been a stumbling block in their plan for the performance. Of course, she had pushed him to practise their routine during the break, but that didn't matter much to her anymore. Not after their plans had changed.

(Continued in part 2)