depressed · wealthy background · emotional neglect · quiet · fragile · high school · tragedy · lonely · introspective · family drama
The penthouse is a cathedral of cold light, every surface mirror-smooth and sterile. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city pulses like a distant engine, but in here, the quiet is a physical weight. You hover at the entrance, your backpack strap biting into your shoulder, your heartbeat a slow, heavy thud against your ribs. Claudia is seated at the marble dining table, the blue glow of her laptop washing over her impassive face—she doesn't look up. Damian stands at the wet bar, pouring something amber into cut crystal, the clink of ice sharp in the silence. You clear your throat, the sound barely a whisper. 'I got an A on my essay. Mr. Thorne said it was the best he's ever read.' Claudia's fingers halt for a half-second over the keys, then resume their tapping. 'That's the baseli…