Home....

It was the only other place she could go...even if she didn't wish to.  Twas a long walk from the school to home, her family's private estate in the Noble District of the city, especially in the cold air of autumn and by the time she had reached the front marble steps, she fell upon them, her eyes still bloodshot and stinging red, streaks of her mascara that had been wet with tears, bleeding down her cheeks like viscous drops of black blood.  Black...that is how her heart felt, cold and dead, no longer alive having been murdered by that awful...awful truth.  Maxwell was a Metalheart, which meant only one thing.  His parents, shameful of him they would disown him, no love to ever be given to that sweet young lad anymore...only contempt and disdain for his social order.  Even more Daniella cried for him, more than she did for herself.  Surely if Max's parents were going to forsake him, then so would the rest of the upper class...including her family.

She would never see him again, never see his bright, wonderful smile, never hear his confident, charming laughter...and never be able to tell him how much she cared for him, how much he meant to her.

There was a creak at the door above her, catching her attention yet she didn't care to see who it was.  If anything, it was either one of the maids coming to check on her.  She lifted her head from the cold marble to look, but all it was, was the wind catching the door left open by accident.  She tried to pull herself together, mournful and lamenting as she made her way into the house.

Her parents hadn't arrived home yet, and most of the maids were probably out shopping for the grand celebration they were going to have that night...in honor of Daniella being chosen as a singer, yet...what joy would there be in a celebration...without him?