••
Harmony
"And here we are, that's it. Homewood University. Gosh, I am so proud of you, Harmony." My mom reaches over to press a kiss to my head, and I smile softly.
High school is over and here I am, about to embark on a brand-new period of my life. I have been academically preparing for this day for at least half of my existence, yet I am still not mentally prepared. I hate changes, and although I understand that they are inevitable I still cannot shake off the huge wad of anxiety coursing through me.
Homewood University is enormous. It is oddly parklike with drowsy red-brick walls that appear quite intimidating. The lawn is beautifully green but that large fountain in the center, with that statue resembling Mary Magdalene, looks a bit more creepy than sacred.
The campus has a Georgian feel to it, yet still appears modern. It has a capturing exterior for the most part; perhaps this is one of the reasons my mother insisted I go here.
"You are so brilliant, so bright." She pinches my cheeks painfully and I grimace, causing her to chuckle whilst her eyes glisten with sadness. She sighs, fiddling with her wedding band. "Who's gonna watch Girlfriends with me now?"
My mom's exaggerating, I only recall watching that comedy with her once. One time!
"Eli could." I smile.
My attempt at humor falls flat as she breathes out harshly.
"Eli is only six years old, Harmony." She trails her slender fingers down the side of my head. "Visit on the weekends."
"Okay."
"And no drinking, no sex, no boys—"
"Mom, I know." I cut her off, inwardly cringing at the word 'sex.' I have never had a boyfriend before, and truth be told the topic did not excite me. I've seen too many teenage girls wailing over lost love and decided I didn't want to be a part of the batch.
She sighs, tilting her head to the side as she purses her lips. I smile a little in efforts of brightening the sullen mood. "It's just college mom, not the army. Don't worry."
She nods. "I know." She kisses my cheek and I subtly pull away. Her over-affectionate behavior is starting to make me feel like a two-year-old being left at kindergarten for the first time.
I open the car door and step out onto the hot pavement, a gush of wind swiveling my black curls around the small frame of my face. Squinting my eyes from the hot afternoon sun, I open the trunk as my mom gets around to join me.
"I packed every possible thing that you might need. Toothbrush, hairbrush..."
My small fingers curl around the handle of my suitcase as I haul it from the space, grimacing when I almost fall over onto my face.
Jeezus, what on earth did my mother pack in this thing? Rocks? Knowing my mom, she probably packed the whole house.
I grab my duffel bag, perching it onto my shoulder as she closes the trunk door. "I tried to get everything in but if anything got left behind—"
"I can get other stuff if needed. There's a mall down the street."
"No, you should call me if you need anything." She shakes her head. "I hate you wandering around. You know no-one here."
I think my mother constantly forgets that I'm eighteen.
"Yeah, mom, but it's just the mall, plus I can ask someone to accompany me."
She tilts her head to the side, pressing a palm to her waist as she droops her eyes. I cannot help but chuckle. We both know that I would never ask someone to accompany me. I am enormously anti-social, and the fact that my mother is excessively over-protective does not aid my case one bit.
"Okay, be careful. University is a scary place," she advises, and I nod.
After the passing of my dad when I was only twelve, I have spent most of my time hanging out with my mom. Of course, me shipping off to college is not something she is excited about. Being alone in our house has always been her biggest fear, but luckily my little brother Elijah will be there to keep her company. I am relieved.
"Good luck. Do you need me to come along?"
I shake my head, turning to face her. "Uhm, no. I'm okay. I'll call you."
She nods in response, the tears gathering in her emerald eyes once again. She's so exaggerative. "Okay, Harmony."
I smile as I turn away, dragging my overweight suitcase toward the large building. I hear her engine starts up and I look back to offer a final wave as she honks her horn before driving away. As soon as she vanishes into the distance, an anxious sigh escapes me. Being in an unfamiliar environment and knowing absolutely no one is overwhelmingly terrifying.
I have been sheltered my whole life, and my mom even contemplated getting me homeschooled after kindergarten. My dad disapproved of it, saying growing up a child to be naïve is a lot more dangerous than allowing them to fly free.
Now here I am flying free, and I desperately want to return to my warm cocoon already.
This place is too big, and I feel like David standing amongst a bunch of Goliaths. I have a tiny figure and I am short in stature, but I just feel like these kids are larger than normal adolescents.
It's probably my anxiety. I breathe in and out, zipping my suitcase open to retrieve my asthma pump from the small compartment of the bag. I close my lips around the mouthpiece, pressing the canister as I inhale a chunk of air, breathing out through my nose. I slip it back in, biting my lip and glancing up to see a group of boys gawking at me as they pass by.
Embarrassment reddens my face as I lower my gaze, tilting my head so my thick curly hair blocks the side of my face.
I wanna go home!
Straightening my spine, I begin pulling my suitcase through the pavement. My anxiety-driven demons whisper among themselves that all eyes are currently on me. Kids are gathered on the lush lawns; laughing, talking, and just being normal college students. Hiding behind the cloak of my hair, I steal a small glance through the narrow spaces, and luckily, no one seems to care that I exist.
Great, it is all in my head then. That is a relief.
Fortunately, I make it to Grayson hall-my assigned dorm hall- with no human contact, and honestly, I am beyond relieved.
My dislike for human acknowledgment has landed me with only one friend in high school. Callum Gale. We became friends in ninth grade when we got grouped up for this chemistry project. Our love for the topic atoms is what gave us a young yet strong friendship, but it sure is a shame that he will not be here with me. He got admitted to another university; Homewood doesn't offer what he wanted to study, unfortunately.
While I check my dorm number on the admittance email Homewood sent to my cell, a group of laughing boys scampers toward me like a bunch of fifth-graders; gamboling and laughing boisterously as their deep voices boom off the walls. They are so...large.
Almost knocking me over, one of them sends me an apologetic smile as I sheepishly shift to the corner, pressing my side against the wall to give them all the space they need. They continue their childish rant as they disappear down the hallway, and I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Are all college guys this frisky? It is great that I am not the type to care much for boys or I would have been greatly disappointed.
Finally locating my assigned dorm room-Room 805-I smile triumphantly like a two-year-old. The things that get my lips stretching always confuses people. And by people, I mean my mom, my brother Elijah, my late father, and Callum. They are literally the only people I know.
I push the door open, stepping into a poorly decorated room. It consists of a small desk with a stack of old books perched on top of it, a small double closet at the corner, and a door that presumably leads to a bathroom. A small window is positioned above a bunk bed, and my mind flows to the fact that my roommate is not present.
I don't mind, hopefully she won't arrive until nightfall, then I'll already be asleep and wouldn't have to face any form of interaction.
I prop my bag onto the bottom section of the bunk bed and tie my hair up in a quick messy bun. Prying away strands from my eyes, I reach for a broom at the corner, wrinkling my button nose at its trashy fiber sticks.
The exterior of Homewood University is commendable, but the inside is an entirely different story. The paints on the ceilings are chipped, and long cracks separate portions of the walls. It is screaming for a well-needed renovation.
Bearing in mind my asthma, I grab a facemask from my duffel bag, tying it over the lower half of my face. It's a good thing my mom is an OCD perfectionist, who never leaves behind a facemask or a gauze.
I grip the broom and begin to sweep the room, squinting my eyes from the dust. This is where I will be spending most of my time for the next four years, if it isn't clean, I'll lose my mind.
The door to the room suddenly opens and I stiffen as someone comes rushing in, hastily pulling the broom from my hand. "No, let me."
I bring my eyes to see a brunette with a friendly smile on her face. Her skin is flawless, and her eyes are a unique shade of blue with little specks of green and grey. It's rare.
Her beam enlarges, now highlighting her neat rows of milky teeth. "Sorry, I got here before you, I really should have cleaned but my annoying cousin insisted I ate lunch with him."
The face mask conceals my small smile, and I pull it off, moving over to the bed as she begins to sweep in my stead. I rest the mask in my bag, and she pryingly spots the asthma pump among my clothes.
She frowns. "Are you asthmatic?"
I look at her and nod, and she sighs. "Oh. I know what it is like to have an underlying issue. I know a few people with problems like yours...well not necessarily similar, but you get what I mean."
I think.
I look away from her, not sure what to say as I zip my bag close. I don't know her, so talking about my health with her is a little unwieldy.
Noticing my lack of response, she rests her hand on her forehead as she emits an apologetic titter. "Oh, I am so sorry, am I prying too much?"
I shake my head. I don't want her to feel offended by my awkward attitude. It's certainly not her fault that I am this socially weird person who can't keep up a conversation.
She smiles again and my body convulses in relief. "I sense that you don't talk much." She hitches the broom at the corner of the wall, turning her head to look at me. "But I can assure you that after a week of being here, that won't be the case anymore." And she laughs.
My lips tug upwards as I pretend to be busy, refolding my already folded clothes and reputing them into my duffel bag. I am so weird.
"You're a first-year, right?" Her brows furrow as she plops down onto the bottom section of the bed. I hear the mattress squeak beneath her and wonder how many people have slept on it before my appearance. Maybe I should take the top section?
"Yeah, are you?"
She shakes her head. "Nope, second-year. My dorm mate got a new dorm. Hence why you're here." And she grins.
"Oh." I nod my head.
"Oh, yeah, I totally forgot!" She bounces excitedly, and I gaze up to see her grinning widely. "We are having an orientation night out tonight. A few second to fourth years will be telling you guys-the freshmen- some little deets about the school. You know, a sort of survival guide. It is kind of mandatory. We can go together."
Or not.
"Uhm. Social gatherings are not my thing," I politely inform her.
Her grin gets wider, and I wonder if I accepted the offer instead of declined. She feigns shock, pressing her palms to her smooth cheeks as she drops her jaws. "Woah, and she finally responds with a full sentence."
I giggle softly at her humor while shaking my head, and she chuckles, whipping her hair from her eyes. "I'm kidding. Will you come?"
"Will a lot of people be there?"
She crinkles her nose pensively, twisting half of her lips, and I automatically take that as a yes. "Uh, maybe."
I chew on the inside of my cheek, squinting my eyes wonderingly. The thought of being in crowded places makes my skin crawl.
"My cousin will be there," she quickly adds. "He's a second-year too, so he'll make the experience a lot less awkward trust me."
I purse my lips, still not finding the will in me to agree. I hate seeing humans; I prefer being alone. If I lived in a cave, I would be completely fine.
But this is college, right? And she did say it is mandatory. The last thing I want is to miss out on important information because of my introverted tendencies. I am always determined not to allow my quiet demeanor to meddle with my education. Besides if it gets too much to handle, I could always return to the dorm.
"Alright, I'll come." I finally decide, and she pipes up brightly.
"Awesome. By the way, I am April." She gets up and extends a perfectly manicured hand to me. Her nails are painted pink with little cute diamond studs all over it. I find myself admiring the art as I take her hand in mine.
"Harmony Skye."
Her eyes widen, and I am confused as to why my name evoked that reaction. "Like for real?"
I nod, and my self-consciousness is about to kick in when she speaks again.
"Your name is so cool. I like it. Harmony Skye," She tests it on her tongue, smiling admirably. "It has a kick."
I offer a bright smile. "Thank you."
No-one has ever said they liked my name before, the compliment has me flying on cloud nine. As Callum would always say, the things that get me smiling is something he'll never understand.
Maybe this roommate will not be so bad after all.
"So, tonight it is then!" She waggles her brows, seeming quite thrilled.
I am more confused than ever. What's the fun in an orientation?
“I’ve never fallen from quite this high. Falling into your ocean eyes.” —Billie Eilish. Chapter Theme Song: ‘Ocean Eyes’ by Billie Eilish. •• Harmony My skin glows red, orange, and gold as the flames of the blazing bonfires rise toward the pitch-black sky. The woody fragrance of smoke propagates through the air and the warmth of the fire can be felt but is still not enough to overthrow the chilly night air. Loud music vibrates the dusty earth as ashen debris steadily travel away from the smoke and among the socializing university students. Everyone here seems to know each other, though most of them are first years. The setting is crowded and not my style at all, and I can’t help feeling tiny and out of place. This feels like a party instead of an orientation. Needless to say, I am gravely uncomfortable. I am about to make a U-turn and return to my dorm when April speaks from n
** Harmony “Change the music, idiots!” James bellows toward the DJ section and the music switches to a more upbeat one almost instantly. “Is this a party?” The question leaves my lips before I even realized, and everyone pulls their gazes to me. Attention. I hate attention.Why did I ever open my mouth? “No, it’s not Harmony.” April chuckles. “This is just what Homewood’s orientation looks like.” “Yeah, we’ll begin in a few.” James flashes me a charming smile. I nod shyly and drop my gaze in hopes that everyone will now shift their focus away from me. I hate the spotlight so much. “Are you a freshman?” A smoky voice sounds among us and I glance up, noticing that the smooth tone belongs to Blaze. I swallow uneasily. He makes me feel intensely weird. My eyes travel over everyone. The girls are watching him steadily while James has a faint smirk on his face as he rubs his lips.
“All the good girls go to hell. ’Cause even God herself has enemies. And once the water starts to rise and heaven’s out of sight, she’ll want the devil on her team.”—Billie Eilish. Chapter Theme Song: ‘all the good girls go to hell’ by Billie Eilish. •• Harmony The day has dawn crisp and bright, as the sun drips its yellow yolk through the open window, covering the room with its soft orange hue. I open bleary eyes to regard the clock sitting on the wooden table next to me. 7:05 am. I have class at eight and I’d hate to be late for my first lecture, so although my eyes are heavy and I feel like I’ve been running a thousand miles per hour, I have to gather the strength to get up. I knew attending that orientation-partythingylast night was a bad idea. Feeling lethargic on your first day isn’t something you’d want to start the term with. I’ve been able to over
•• Blaze “April!” I mewl dramatically, throwing my arms around her neck from behind as she stands in line to collect her food. “The canteen is out of burgers.” She rolls her eyes and wriggles away from my embrace. “You and your burgers. Why don’t you just become a burger and eat yourself?” “I’ve got girls to do that for me.” I smile, then turn my attention to the lady behind the counter who has been serving our lunches for two years now. She looks about thirty and her hair is always hidden with a black hairnet. The large apron hides her matured figure, but I can tell she has a remarkable one beneath the white fabric. “Good morning, Pat.” I rest my elbows onto the counter, raising my eyebrows while staring into her face. Her cheeks become noticeably rosy, but she pretends to be annoyed, rolling her eyes as she stirs the pot of Mac and Cheese. I do this every lunch period and she never drops the facade. It’s alr
"You picked a dance with the devil and you lucked out."—Chase Atlantic. Chapter Theme Song: ‘Swim’ by Chase Atlantic. •• Harmony “He drank from your straw?” April puts a black dress, draped on a hanger, over her form as she stands in front of the mirror, cocking her head to the side contemplatively. The dress looks extremely skimpy and leaves nothing to the imagination. The sleeves are laced-covered, and the cleavage and back area are widely low-cut. One bad shift and her chest will be displayed for the whole world to see. She seems to be going somewhere, and I solemnly hope she does not try to drag me along like last night. I am not up for meeting anymore handsome, creepy boys. It is as if my words have just sunken it as she turns to look at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “He drank from your straw?!” I nod.Well, welcome back to e
•• Blaze “Oh, Shit!” I laugh, as Cole spits out alcohol onto the hard table, unable to keep it down as liquid flows through his nostrils. I shift away from the surface of puke as the brunette on my lap shakes her head in disgust. “I give up, I give in,” he says between breaths, and my lips spread in a grin. “I can see that. My money.” I stretch my hand out, and he sighs, digging into his trousers with a pained face. James stands next to me, laughing his face off whilst awfully chewing on a straw. Would you believe me if I told you that I hate being here, at this party, around all these people? I can’t pinpoint one person in this room that I genuinely like. James is alright, but I can’t feel that brotherly love that other people feel for their bros. My heart is just void, and all I can think about right now is how this brunette’s rear is pressing the life out of my dick. “You sons of bitches should know that yo
•• Harmony I place my pencil and crayons down, pleased with what I have produced. It has been a while since I have exercised the talent, so I am appalled that my skills are still the same. I smile to myself as I tilt my head, staring proudly at the accurate piece. I intended to draw just a pair of blue eyes, but now Blaze’s entire upper body is on the paper. My photographic memory has saved his image so clearly in my head and I could not resist the urge to carve more than just his eyes. It’s scary how precise the illustration is, that I can feel butterflies gathering around in the pit of my stomach. I stare into the eyes of the sketch, my cheeks becoming flammable once again. “Don’t let him near you” “You will regret it” I flash my head. Drawing an image of him does not mean that I am interested in him. I am sure. Now that I’ve proven to myself that my talent is still present, I shoul
“So you brought out the best of me. A part of me I’ve never seen. You took my soul and wiped it clean. Our love was made for movie scenes.”—Emma Bale. Chapter Theme Song: ‘All I Want’ by Emma Bale. (A/N: ^please listen the above song at the scene where Harmony sings it in the chapter :) •• Harmony The light of dawn seeps into my room, the hot sun scorching my face and forcing me out of slumber. I sit up in bed craggily, promptly noticing that the room is quiet and empty. Drifting sleepy orbs to the nightstand, I realize that a small note sits there. I reach over for it, wiping drool from my mouth with the back of my hand. Didn’t wake you up cause I wasn’t sure if you had an early class. I left early, see ya latez :) —April. Luckily, I don’t have literature until nine, or else I would have been tardy for my firs