The air in The Gilded Beam was thick with the scent of roasted beans of coffee and the hushed tones of conversation of the university students , but for Julian, the world had narrowed down to the woman sitting across from him. The apology had cleared the air, yet it left a strange, electric tension in its wake as it was the first time for julian to speak to a girl this beautiful.
Lily asked "what are you going to drink " as she watched him nervously fidgeting. She thought it would be first time here .
Julian replied "anything is fine " as he was not picky with food and it was his first time here it was better to leave it to her.
Lily called a waiter and ordered two hot chocolates as it would be light ,
"The deadline for the 'Emerald Horizon' is in ten days," Lily said, noting he wasn't going to start a conversation , her fingers tracing the rim of her porcelain cup. The steam from her latte softened the sharp, regal lines of her face. "What do you plan to paint, Julian?"
Julian leaned back trying to relax, the velvet of the booth pressing against his spine. "I don't know yet," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I have the idea, but the soul of the piece... it's still hiding in the fog. What about you?"
Lily sighed, a sound of genuine exhaustion that seemed to age her. "I have a mountain of assignments to finish first. Only after I clear my desk can I even think about the canvas."
Julian blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Assignments? I thought you were a Fine Arts major. Isn't the painting the assignment?"
Lily let out a soft, melodic laugh that didn't reach her eyes. It was the laugh of someone who lived two lives. "I'm a Business Management student, Julian. My hobby is to paint. My reality is balance sheets and market projections."
The revelation hit Julian he was thinking isn't rich always following their heart doing whatever they wanted it was a sudden shift in the room's gravity. He looked at her the way she held herself, the effortless authority in her posture—and suddenly the scene in the CS building made sense. She wasn't just an artist; she was a Vane being groomed for a throne.
"So," Julian said, trying to process the image of a corporate titan holding a paintbrush. "Will you still paint that haunting scene? The one with the flickering lights?"
"Yes and no," Lily replied enigmatically. "The theme is there, but haunting isn't just about ghosts, is it? Sometimes it's about the things we have to leave behind to become what others expect of us."
Julian was surprised about the thought of her idea and replied "Is there enough time for you to paint like this while keeping assignments"
Lily lightly smiled and said "Yes there's not enough time but if you want to assume the throne you have to bear its weight ,saying no was never an option . Fate gifts always comes with a price"
Julian was intrigued by her words ,but he knew the expectation and responsibility of many people resting on their shoulders; he couldn't help thinking how familiar they were " like a glowing fish at sea to the lighthouse at the shore".
She drained the last of her coffee and checked a platinum watch that probably cost more than Julian's bike. "I have to go. But," she paused, her hazel eyes locking onto his with a sudden, playful spark, "can I get 'Our Smith's' number? If I need inspiration—or a reminder of what the rain feels like—I might need to message you."
Julian felt his face heat up. He wordlessly took his phone out, and they exchanged numbers—a simple digital bridge between the Valley and the Penthouse. As he watched her finishing her coffee he thought about the bill and began mentally calculating the cost; it would cost several dollars as he heard his friend say it once.Julian got up to pay the bill but lily spoke
"I invited you today," she said firmly. "Let this be my treat. Next time, the bill is on you."
Julian hesitated. His pride prickled, but he saw the look in her eyes—it wasn't charity; it was a pact. He gave a small smile. "If it's just coffee, I'll gladly oblige."
"Good," she smiled, standing up. Her cream coat caught the light as she turned. "I have work to do. Take care, Julian."
Julian watched her disappear through the glass doors, the hyacinth scent lingering in the air like a promise. He took out his phone and saw that it was time for class as he finally walked back toward the CS building for his final lecture, the world felt different from before as felt on his way back .
The moment he stepped into the classroom, the atmosphere shifted. The usual hum of hushed technical discussions died down. Every head turned. Some students whispered behind his back others stared with blatant, aggressive curiosity. He was no longer the "Observer." He was the "Subject."
Sit down. Don't look at them, he told himself, making his way to his regular seat at the very back.
As he sat, he opened his IDE on his laptop, but the code felt gibberish.
Julian thought "Why are they staring? Do they think I'm her pet? Or a project? They see the Vane name and they think about money, power, scandals. They think I was getting her attention or she had targeted me. I should have said no. I should have stayed invisible. But then... I wouldn't have seen her smile. Was it worth the target on my back? He couldn't help but ponder on his actions"
Surprisingly, no one approached him. The "Vane Aura" was so intimidating that even by association, Julian seemed to have acquired a shield of untouchability. People were too afraid to ask what he was doing with her, fearing that any wrong word might reach the ears of the most powerful family in Seattle. He spent the rest of the hour staring at a flickering cursor, the algorithm for his lab forgotten.
After finishing his last class he waited until nearly everyone was gone as he slowly started packing his materials and reached the parking for his bike .
The ride home was long. He pedaled hard, trying to burn off the restless energy that had settled in his chest. When he entered through the backyard, the house was silent. His parents were still at the shop.
He threw his bag on the bed and took out his phone. His heart hammered as he typed a simple message: Hey, you there? To lily as he thought about whether she finished her work or not.
He waited. One minute. Five. Ten. No reply.
She's busy with that 'assignment' she mentioned, he thought, a pang of disappointment blooming in his chest. I'm just a coffee break in her schedule.
He didn't realize how tired he was until he hit the mattress. The emotional whiplash of the day—the apology, the coffee, the stares—exhausted him more than any jog ever could. He drifted into a deep sleep, dreaming of white lotuses growing out of cracks in a damp pavement.
"Julian? Dinner's ready, come on."
His mother's voice pulled him back to reality. He blinked, seeing the evening shadows stretching across his room. He walked out to the small dining area, where the scent of warm spices greeted him.
"You were out like a light," his mother said, placing a steaming bowl of rice on the table. She looked at him closely, her motherly intuition sharp as a needle. "How are your studies going? You look... exhausted. Is the studies getting harder?"
Julian sat down, taking a portion of food. "It's fine, Mom. Just a lot of projects and practice its still a good day."
His father looked up from his plate. "As long as you're keeping your head in the books. That degree is your ticket to a life where you don't have to check the price of every loaf of bread. You're almost at the finish line."
"I know, Dad," Julian said, his voice low.
Julian and his family continued breakfast as his mother chatted about some gossip topics that happened at the store and other trivia , dinner was ended as peaceful like ever
After dinner, as Julian helped clear the table, his father leaned against the counter, picking up his keys. "What are your plans for tomorrow? It's Saturday. I could use an extra hand at the shop for the morning delivery."
Julian paused, a plate in his hand. He hadn't planned on it, but he felt a sudden, desperate need to get away—not to the shop, but to the one place where he felt like the world made sense.
"Actually, Dad, I was going to head over to a friend's house," Julian lied, the words feeling heavy on his tongue. "But I could help for some time and we're working on a joint project for the competition. I need some... inspiration."
His father nodded, a rare look of approval crossing his face. "Good. Hard work pays off. Just don't stay out too late."
Back in his room, Julian saw his phone glowing on the nightstand. A message from Lily.
Lily:Yes, I was busy. Those 'imaginary machines' my cousin likes so much don't calculate their own logistics. What are you doing?
Julian:Nothing. Sleeping early. Tomorrow I'm going on an inspirational adventure.
Lily:Where to? Nature?
Julian:???
Lily:You're an artist. It's the cliché choice.
Julian:No toMy favorite place.
Lily:Where is it?
Julian:Secret.
Lily:Oh, okay. I even wanted to enjoy some nature. My walls are starting to feel like they're closing in today.
Julian stared at the screen—he didn't know her story but every person would have one he could feel her wanting to escape. Before reason could stop him, his fingers moved.
Julian:So... Do you want to come?
Lily:Like a picnic?
Julian:Yes. Will you come?
The "typing..." bubble appeared and disappeared. Julian held his breath. He looked around his modest room—the peeling wallpaper, the stacks of art books, the window that looked out onto the rainy valley. Then he thought of her name "vane" .He couldn't believe himself he casually asked her out if his classmates at college get to know this then he is cooked .
Finally, the phone buzzed.