The sequential pattern of street lights lining the side of the road came to a stop as the bus left Nellie some four blocks from her apartment complex. She was used to the walk, a downhill path along an uneven sidewalk with only stop signs and the occasional sassafras standing in her way, and focused on all those things that were familiar about the neighborhood to keep her mind busy and suppress the bleeding of her heart. 

At the gates to the complex however, her thoughts came roaring back with nothing but dread. She’d have to face her father and hear him ask about the play, Meteora, her friends, and that was just a conversation she could not have. After he'd shot down so many of her comments and queries on Meteora, Nellie knew that he'd be happy to see her return home without any musae powers. She'd come to the conclusion that he was afraid of her having any sense of freedom, that if she had the same liberties her mother had once then she too would leave and seek a better life for herself. His apprehension was warranted at first, after her attempt to run away, but as the years passed she'd started to ease the stranglehold he maintained over her by spending more time with her friends and he instead resorted to dissuading her from the undeniable independence that Instruments would grant.

Nellie reached her floor at the top of the steps. Her bed was calling to her, pulling at the exhaustion in her bones, promising that she would find comfort and warmth beneath its sheets and heavy comforter. She could even grab a drink from her father's liquor cabinet and drown her sorrows as she'd seen him do a thousand times before. But she still hadn't moved away from the stairwell. The lights were on in their living room, and Nellie's stomach twisted at the thought of having to face her father if he was drunk right now, or even worse, a muse. 

So she took the stairs up to the roof and took a seat upon her beach. The overlook allowed her a view of downtown, the docks beyond it, and of Comet Hill's larger, more opulent neighbor to the north, Cinder Sky City. The lights emanating from Cinder Sky's buildings bathed the bay waters the two cities shared, painting the star-freckled canvas with flares of yellow and white as if a small star had risen in the dead of night. The sight always filled her with a sense of energy and inspiration, no matter how late it was when she made it out there. But at that moment, with everything she’d been through that night, the view of Cinder Sky Sound only brought back the thoughts and feelings she’d had on her most memorable night on the roof. The night she had run away.

I could do it, she told herself, Everyone would understand. It wouldn’t be hard to start over. She’d done it before, and even if she did end up in a place full of musae, at least they wouldn’t know how desperately she had wanted to be like them. Eight years in Comet Hill had been enough too, if she was going to see more of the world why not start now? She was close enough to finishing school that continuing her education wouldn’t be difficult either, her grades in physics and talent for engineering would guarantee her a career no matter where she went. Not to mention that she could also volunteer for the Eden’s Rosid, their ambassadors where everywhere, offering internships and opportunities for all of those who wanted to give back to the world. She could do it, she should do it. She knew there would be a sense of remorse and betrayal for those who had loved her that would follow her around no matter where she went, but she had been living with those feelings for a while now, and knew that it was something you could eventually come to terms with.

A wind off the coast rolled through the sleepy town and pulled Nellie from the back and forth of her swirling thoughts. Her eyes began to droop as its cold tendrils caressed her skin, but she was numb to the chill, numb to the ramblings of her mind and the beating of her heart. She curled up in her nook, bringing her knees close to her chest, as her consciousness began to fade, like the retreating tides, and sleep took her. 

In her dream she was six-years-old again. The winds swept all around her, dragging the sand of the beach up high over the nearby homes and shacks. Nellie held her hands up to her face to block the grainy gusts from her eyes as she began her trudge through the dunes, back to her parents' place. There was something off that night. The waves had been ceaseless and turbulent, hammering the shore with nothing but fury. The stars above that always helped set her mind at ease and spelled her imagination with wonder were nowhere to be found. And the wind, the wind was worse than it had ever been, howling from deep within black storm clouds, hard enough to rattle the bones under her skin. 

With the taste of salt still on her lips, she climbed in through her house’s back window and locked it carefully before turning to return to her room upstairs. But in that moment, she saw a figure in the darkness, a figure she’d known only in her youth, in the briefest time in her life. Her mother went into the living room as she always did and came back with a suitcase in hand.  

Nellie opened her mouth to cry out. I can’t let her get away, not again. As the years passed Nellie had dreamt of this moment countless times. What would she have done had she been there as her mother fled the house that night. What would she have said? There had to be some way to make her stay, wasn’t there? But before she could let out so much as a shout, the storm winds drowned out her words, gusting violently first from outside the house, then from within. 

Pieces of the house flew all around them, torn board by board off of the foundation. Her mother spoke then, her expression seemingly sad, sympathetic even, but her voice could not be heard in the midst of the wreckage. Nellie squinted her eyes, trying to read her mother’s lips, hoping with all her heart that maybe they would give her a hint of what was being said. But the rushing gales, laden with destruction, were worse now. It became impossible to make out the figure of her mother. Nellie hurried to her, stretching out a hand, but right as she was about to reach her, Shamae turned and began to walk away. No! Why won’t she stop? Why doesn’t she want me with her? 

Nellie took off after her, feet slapping hardwood, right as the house slopped beneath her, rising into the heart of the storm. She didn’t stop. Nellie made it through the doorway and as she caught sight of Shamae in the distance, her mother’s figure all of the sudden exploded into a burst of white light. Blinded, Nellie’s foot caught on a piece of debris from their demolished home. The ground disappeared from under her, as it had during Meteora, and she tumbled downhill. 

Her eyes flew open when the impact came. It took her a moment, but when she felt the weight of Gerwig on her chest, Nellie realized she was back in her room, back in the Comet Hill apartment. She grabbed hold of the sleeping tomcat as her heart slowed to a regular pace and the nightmare receded back into her subconscious. Gerwig squirmed and pushed her away in complaint of being roused from sleep, but when salty tears fell onto his silver fur he let out a soft meow and settled into Nellie's embrace. Her memories of the previous night were pouring out of her and there was nothing she could do to stop it as she hugged him closer.

The Quazilileas had adopted Gerwig shortly after their move to Comet Hill, when Nellie had been suffering from the bulk of her nightmares. She would wake up regularly and head downstairs, only for her father to find her asleep, waiting by the front door in the morning. Once Gerwig came into the picture however, his presence and warmth became enough to comfort her through those long nights. Nellie hadn’t thought it possible that another living being could love her as much as her mother had, but Gerwig was especially attuned to her emotions and was always there for her, ready to give kisses and lay down by her side should she need to break down.

Holding him now, Nellie thought about the girl she used to be before Meteora. Curious, whimsical, and full of blissful ignorance. Ready for adventure, no matter how or when it came. She wished she could go back. She wished she had done things differently. If she had done less to prepare or had spent the night with her family then maybe she could’ve been guaranteed a meteor. It was exhausting thinking that she was really destined to spend the rest of her life without an Instrument. 

A cloud passed under the afternoon sun overhead when Nellie realized something that snapped her from her thoughts. She hadn’t made it to bed last night. The last thing she remembered was the view of Cinder Sky City from her overlook. What was she doing in her room? Had her father found her out there? Did he already know that she hadn’t received an Instrument? 

“Arghhhh,” Nellie screamed. 

  Gerwig jumped from the bed as she threw her phone across the room and flung her sheets off in rage. They hit the floor followed by her pillows, headphones, and books. She swung for her nightstand next, sending her laptop and the lamp there crashing as well. She clawed at the wall behind her headboard, where she had hung up photo prints of her friends and the different adventures they’d been on throughout the years. Looking at them now, she only saw the blast of water from Yuè, marvelous when it had doused her last night at the Sorairos'. 

Nellie leapt off her now barren bed, eyes set on the vines and faery lights strung across the roof. The lights came off with the first yank, but the vines took a couple more tries as their plastic material tore free on the second pull, leaving scattered bits of green all along the roof. Why couldn’t the world wait until she was ready? All she wanted was enough privacy to cry about the meteors. She didn’t need everyone hovering over her, doing anything and everything to assure her that things would be alright. Of course they would be, she knew that. No, Nellie just wanted enough time to process everything. Why did no one seem to understand that? 

Chest heaving, she whirled on her desk and the pair of bookshelves next, tearing through it all without a care. The books all clattered into a large pile on the hardwood and even her record player came tumbling down. She knew she was being a brat, no one in their right mind complained when others wanted to care for them, but it wasn't until her tears splattered on the ground with the rest of the mess that her rage began to subside. They trailed down her face, warm and salty, as she took a look at the posters on her wall and she knew then that her need for destruction had been quelled. 

Her room was in taters, paper and clothes everywhere, pins and flecks of green all over the roof, her favorite stories cast off as if they were nothing. When she'd been younger, Nellie would often imagine herself cleaning up these messes with one of the Instruments. Any of them would do, she knew she was clever enough to make even the immaterial Instruments like lightning and fire work. But that wasn't really something that she could do anymore, not now that there were real musae everywhere. No, from now on that side of her, the one that allowed her to detach and envision herself as a muse, would only bring her pain. 

Forget it, she told herself, None of this matters anyway. From school, to her friends, and a life in Comet Hill, at the end of the day she could start anew in a different part of the world and she would have those things all over again. That small glimmer of hope was the only thing keeping her from breaking down again. It was such a crutch for her then that the thought became intoxicating. 

And so, her mind was set. Nellie threw her closet doors open and rifled through the back for the large duffle bag she used for camping. In one sweep she grabbed her dresses, pants, socks, and packed them all together on the bed. Her photo of Edens Otsuka and Irnaedi made it into the bag as well. She then grabbed a notepad and a couple of books to bring with her, all while a concerned Gerwig stared at her with big yellow saucers from under the bed.

Nellie felt a pang when she saw him. “You’re coming with me,” she said, giving the gray tom cat a scratch below the ear. “I won’t be like mom and leave you with him.” They kept Gerwig’s carrying bag in the laundry room by the kitchen downstairs. So Nellie left her room for the first time that morning and made sure to pack her makeup and toiletries from the bathroom before she made her descent to the first floor of the apartment. 

When she whipped around the staircase however, she was met by the wafting aroma of eggs and melted chocolate. Their dining table was set with a plate of crepes, garnished with strawberries and an omelet inside, and trickled on top of it all, a helping of the milky confection that had filled the kitchen with such a mouth-watering fragrance. Her stomach turned, aching at the sight of her favorite breakfast dish. But before Nellie could so much as process how the meal had come to be set up for her like that, a set of keys rattled the front door open as her father entered.

Dressed in khakis and a button up shirt, Perry wore a delighted grin behind his overgrown beard. He was a middle sized man, of an average build who the years hadn't been kind to. His dark hair, while usually coarse enough to style itself into curls, was slicked back to hide the thinning patches that had come about from years of stress at work. There were bags beneath his eyes too, but when he saw Nellie in her pajamas, his expression widened, the sight shocking him out of whatever giddy thoughts he’d been having.

“Oh,” he said, “You haven’t eaten.”

Nellie shrugged, pouting her lip defiantly. The moment she’d seen him smiling her body had tensed, flooded again with insurmountable rage. It shouldn't have been a surprise seeing him so happy and proud of himself. Her father hated the Instruments. Finding out that she hadn't received an Instrument would be as good a reason as any for him to celebrate. 

She wanted to lay into him for it. How dare he mock her so openly on what had to be one of the worst days of her life. What kind of person did that to their daughter? Where was the empathy? Someone so self-centered deserved all the anger and frustration she'd been holding in since Meteora's passing. Nellie didn't care if she burst into tears again, it would feel good, cathartic even, to unleash the fury she hadn't been able to show in front of her friends.