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A turquoise greenish spiky haired teenager is shown smiling in front of a group of paparazzi. He was conventionally attractive, having a defined jawline, and had an average muscle build. The boy had everything. Money. Family. Fame. The expression of his grin was full of arrogance, and his eyes were fierce, the mix of gold and shine.

Though laid deep inside him was an insecurity beyond saving. A gigantic void. 

The camera is cut to a dimly lit graveyard where Darius and multiple mourners stood in the rain. The dark sky was crying, tears pouring out from its wet cheeks. The trees were sulking, bending forward like its leaves were covering its eyes. There was a chill in the air, as the temperature dropped to its lowest point.

Everyone was wearing pink blazers and skirts, the color of grief. In order to appreciate the dead...you must wear the color of love, femininity and sensitivity.

"MAMA!" The spiky haired boy yelled to the cold air. "¡¿Por qué tuviste que morir?!" He landed a fist in the ground like the ground was the killer.

"¿Por qué el mundo es tan jodidamente cruel?!" The pain was in his voice, and it turned into a concentrated anger in the middle of blue and red. He thought about all the moments, the happy memories that his mama gave him ever since he was born. She was always there for him, for every bad day, for every homemade meal, for every birthday. She was always there when he grew taller, had his first love, and middle school achievements. He was brought into this cruel world, but she was the motherly brightness that led the way. That made the path tolerable, it made the path look like sunshine.

The decorated casket was covered in golden chrysanthemums, and light sad blue jewels. This funeral wasn't one many people knew about. Only close connections were allowed at this exclusive service. Darius, the green haired boy, walked solemnly to the casket. His mother had dark blonde hair, and pensive, pale yellow eyes like himself. Her unliving expression was calm, and she wore a flowery dress with pink fringes. In her hands she was holding onto a necklace. A glowing green Krystal. 

Darius bowed his head on the ground in grief. "This was all my fault..." He blamed himself.

Despite the cold, the guilt left him shaking, not from the cold but from the loss of a part of himself.

Behind him, a girl that looked similarly to Darius, put her hand on his shoulder. Her green hair was a little longer than her shoulders and she wore a pink off shoulder dress. She looked unsympathetic. "Keep this funeral a secret. Nobody must know that our father had an affair with a Tri. It will be over the news and our family will be doomed

Darius's jaw tightened and he wiped away the cold water from the rain's tears. "Fine." It was hard to stay strong for Mama, even though there was some lingering pain.

 "Hermano… we all knew she was gonna die soon." She put a hand on her brother's back, a trial to comfort.   

"...You can't continue like this. You have a future ahead of you." Darlyn said strictly, her priorities laid in making Father proud. "You have to move on." 

  He slapped her hand away,  not appreciating her shallow statements. Darius's face turned ashened hating the disrespect Darlyn had for his mother.  "Shut up. Darlyn, she wasn't even your mother." He wasn't appreciative of her pathetic comforting attempts, and stood up to leave. "No I-"Darlyn backed away, trying to explain. Being his half sister, he had a Tri mother that made it into their family’s books of secrets. So to avoid conflict, they had to act like twins. 

 "Save it. Because I don't fucking care anymore." 

He stared at the chrysanthemums surrounding his mother's grave. He lifted one up and softly kept it in his pocket, like he was trying to make a memory last forever. Closing his eyes in exhaustion and grief, he lets out a deep sigh to himself. 

Various shots of Darius, Blake, and Amber's eyes are shown.

Three colors: gold, ember, and emerald.  Yellow. Orange. Green. 

(With all of their voices simultaneously saying,)

"I've always wondered.....

Blake is looking at the wind, Amber looking at herself in the mirror, while Darius is looking at his mother's grave.

"When will my life change?"