I sit in the backseat staring out the window while the city slowly grows brighter the closer we get. Neon signs, glowing storefronts, headlights reflecting off wet pavement. It’s the kind of night where everything feels a little unreal, like the world is running on a dimmer switch.
The driver hums quietly to some song playing on the radio.
Thirty minutes.
That’s how long it takes to reach Aurelia City from the sad little suburb where I’ve been hiding for the last year.
Thirty minutes between the life I used to live and the one I’m barely surviving now.
I lean my head back against the seat.
Funny how distance works like that.
You can be half an hour away from everything you lost and still feel like you’re on a completely different planet.
My apartment sits in Brookhaven, a cheap strip of town just outside the city limits. The kind of place where the buildings look tired and the sidewalks always have cracks running through them.
I moved there because it was the only place I could afford without selling my organs.
The Uber exits the highway and the skyline of Aurelia city spreads out in front of us like something out of a movie.
Glass towers.
Golden lights.
My stomach tightens.
God, I missed this place.
The car slows as we turn onto a street I know by heart.
And then I see it.
The Echelon Grand Hotel.
Even from the outside it’s ridiculous.
Tall marble columns. Massive glass doors. Lights glowing warm and golden through towering windows. The building itself looks like it was designed to make people feel small the moment they walk toward it.
The driver pulls up to the front entrance.
“That’ll be it,” he says.
I blink like I just woke up.
“Right.”
I pay, mumble a thanks, and step out onto the pavement.
The cold night air brushes against my face.
For a moment I just stood there staring up at the hotel.
It hasn’t changed.
Not one bit.
Still just as obnoxiously beautiful as I remember.
