With a heavy sigh of relief, Celeste dropped her duffel bag on the faux wooden floor and flicked on the light. 

Finally, she thought as her shoulders relaxed, I’m home.

Her first view of her apartment brought a smile to her face. 

As part of the package deal, her apartment was fully furnished. A loveseat that she was fairly certain had once been black, but was now a deep gray. An end table with a lamp, bare bulb, no shade. Blackout curtains. A kitchen table and chairs so small that at first glance, she mistook them for part of a children’s playset. Even a TV stand, which was really just a six-cube bookshelf flipped on its side.

Not the best by any means, but a hell of a lot better than what she’d had back home. She’d come as close as humanly possible to draining her bank account by selecting the package deal, but she knew how to stretch a dollar and scrounge up cheap meals. 

She took a left down the hall and stepped into her bedroom, where a bare mattress sat on a curiously tall boxspring. This, at least, seemed new. This was the only carpeted room, an off-white film that felt suspiciously thin. It smelled faintly of a pine-scented cleaner. The smell must have gotten caught in the carpet when cleaners used it on the wooden floor in the rest of the unit.

Celeste dropped her bag onto the mattress and went to part the curtains. Ambient light flooded her room immediately, bright enough to overpower the warm white of the ceiling fan with lavender and saffron tints.

Celeste stared down at in awe at the city below. People crawling about like ants seeking shelter. More ads were plastered on the sides of buildings than she could count, each more risqué than the last. The city thrummed with vibrance and life, despite the fact that the streets looked like a ghost town.

Something about that empty exuberance made her heart gallop, and she found herself clutching the blackout curtains for dear life. Some dark presence, some part of the city, wrapped its fingers wrapped around her heart. There were millions of people in this city, this technological marvel, this rainbow-colored landscape.

And yet she’d never felt so scared or alone. 

Celeste pulled her phone out and opened a news app. She usually preferred to listen to music when busy — synth-pop was her favorite —  but it would probably be best to keep up-to-date on what was happening in the city. She turned the volume up to max and went to the bathroom, both to inspect it and to wash her face.

“It’s. 10 P.M.”, the news host said. His voice was calm. Demure. Tired. “Do you know where your loved ones are?”

“Yeah,” Celeste scoffed as she flicked the bathroom light on and took in the scent of bleach and medical-grade cleaner. “Gone. And good riddance.”

Celeste leaned against the bathroom counter and stared at herself in the mirror. Heavy dark bags hung under her eyes. The light from outside illuminated her silhouette, turning her light skin purple, and tinting the outlines of her dark hair, which she kept in a ponytail. Her chocolate eyes looked like those of a digital witch against the backdrop, which now turned violet as the ads changed. 

There hadn’t been much time to process the events that had made her skip town, leave home. It had all happened so fast. One day, she’d been living with her brother, Vic. The only family she’d ever known outside of their parents, who were just as angry and demeaning as anyone else in the bombed-out south. But Vic had taken care of her since she’d been 10. He’d had a friend pull some strings to get them an apartment under a fake identity, away from their parents, who probably hadn’t even cared that they’d left. 

Her parents had never been much to speak of. Angry folks, by-products of the bombed-out south. They’d been cruel to her and her brother, Vic, but that was normal for the Bible Belt. Or at least, what remained of it. 

But Vic had only been 14, and no 14-year-old had the wisdom or money to make it by themselves, much less take care of another person.

It hadn’t taken long for them to fall in with the wrong crowd. Looking back, it had been obvious what was happening. Strangers coming in and out of their small apartment. Vic telling her to go to her room, lock the door, and keep her ass inside until he said it was safe to come out. Shouting. Lots of it. 

Of course, she’d eventually caught a glimpse of the crowd he brought over. A rough-looking bunch carrying duffel bags. She’d seen a few of them on social media feeds. Wanted felons. The freedom Vic had fought tooth and nail for had turned into bitterness and resentment. She’d watched his soul wither away bit-by-bit, day-by-day, year after year. 

About a month ago, while he’d been in a drunken frenzy and she was dog-tired from pulling a double-shift as the café, all his resentment came pouring out. The floodgates opened, and he told her just how miserable he was because of her. 

How a shitty childhood would have been better than none at all, because playing the role of brother and dad sucked, and the money she brought in wasn’t worth anything. 

How she was a worthless cunt with no future, and she’d probably end up dead in a ditch one day because he was tired of looking out for her.

How he regretted ever trying to save his little sister, because now he needed saving from himself, and she couldn’t help. Nobody could. 

The first part hurt. Even thinking about it now, Celeste bit her lower lip and fought back the emotion welling up inside her. That part had hurt like hell, but it was the second part that made her leave him behind. Their dad had said something similar, right before things reached their boiling point. Right before things had gotten so bad, Vic had realized moving them out into the streets was safer than staying indoors.

“Fine!” she’d shouted back at him. Even now, she could hear their conversation ringing in her ears. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll leave. And you’ll never have to save me again.”

Celeste didn’t realize she’d been gripping the counter so tightly until the grating sound of her fingertips began to hurt. Wincing, she released her grip and returned to her room to finish putting her things away. It didn’t take long. She didn’t have much. 

Once she was finished putting a thin sheet on her bed, she slipped into a nightgown and collapsed onto the mattress. She hadn’t come to Radiant City with dreams of fame or stardom or becoming rich. No, she’d come here for one thing, and one thing only: to prove Vic wrong. Because, deep down, he’d said what they’d both been thinking.

When I wake up tomorrow, I’m gonna be someone new, she thought to herself. Someone I can look at in the mirror and be proud of. Whatever that means. Whatever that takes.

The thought was comforting — but even that prospect couldn’t quell the anxiety niggling at the back of her mind. As she drifted off to sleep, half of her mind rejoiced that she’d made it this far by herself.

But the other half warned that she’d made the worst mistake of her life.