Greyson woke up earlier than he wants. He sighs and tries to get back to sleep. Useless. Grunting, he gets out of bed and opens the curtain dramatically.
"Aw, man..." He cried when he sees the sun hasn't even rise yet.
"Now what to do..." He whines. Greyson sees his dog, Whiskey, pouting from the corner of his room. He rubs Whiskey's head, thinking how on earth he can wake up so early in the morning. After some few unproductive minutes, Greyson decides to fly around town.
"Don't tell anyone, 'kay?" He grins to Whiskey as he quietly picks up his broomstick. Whiskey yawns then barks softly. Greyson takes that as 'yes'. Then, he sneaks out of his house quietly.
The fresh morning air of Croissant Town greets him as he closes the door quietly behind him. Although Croissant Town is the capital city of Magraria Kingdom, which means, a very busy town, it's still very quiet and peaceful out here. Only few people who have awake and do their own routine.
Greyson hops on his broomstick and flies away. He softly sings Purple Sky as he flies, grinning when he sees the dark blue sky slowly turns to purple.
You see, in Magraria Kingdom, there's this thing called Singers. They are like wizards but instead of using spells and wands, they use their Voice and Song. Every Songs, has its own magic power in it and act like spells. And he, Greyson Michael Chance, is a Young Singer.
He was so caught up in thought that he doesn't realize where he's going to. Greyson then realise that he's in the Noble's Avenue. A place for nobles of Magraria resides.
He never really ventured there. Greyson remembers all the nook, turns, and cranny in all over Croissant to the bones, but not Noble's Avenue.
Probably because of the social-gap between the Nobles and commoners. Probably because he doesn't have any nobles as friends. Probably because the nobles had never really piques his interest.
Seeing that he has nothing important to do later, Greyson decides to venture the Noble's Avenue. It truly is a beautiful place. With black street lights and golden bright lights, gold-colored strets and pavements with benches every 10 metres and street signs from steel and copper.
He continues to fly until he reaches the eastern part of Noble's Avenue, East Lane. Then, something caught his eyes.
It's a beautiful garden with lots of trees and flowers. Even in the darkness of twilight, with only dim lights from the streetlights, he can see the verdant color of the grass, vast like a sea of green. The flowers are roses, bluebells, gladiolus, freesia, forsythias, lilies and many more.
"Damn this rich people." Greyson mumbles softly.
Then he sees it. Pitch black outline of a grand, luxurious mansion from afar. It's beautiful. The dim lights are just giving the mansion a spooky aura that makes his nerves shudders in excitement.
Greyson then flies closer to the garden, only to have the edge of his broomstick crashes into an invisible force field that pushes him back with a surprising power.
In an instant, his body hits the ground.
"Darn it." He grunts, rubbing his chin. His broomstick is next to him, luckily there are no damages.
"What are you doing?" A soft voice snaps him out of his thought.
The first thing that's registered into Greyson's head is that a ghost is talking to him, because he's sure there's nobody around.
But when he looks up, he sees no ghost. Instead of ghost, a girl is sitting in front of him, inside the barrier. Through the dim lights, he can see her pale skin, long, waist-length, wavy fiery red hair that looks more like fire because of the golden light from the streetlight. And even with the lack of light, he can see that her turquoise (he guesses that's the name) eyes shining, showing its color proudly. She's probably no older than him. The image of the girl is rippling a bit from his crash with the force field.
"Woah, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Greyson says, quickly getting up. He notices the girl still wears her nightgown.
"Are you hurt?" She asks, completely ignoring his apologize.
"N-no." He replies unsurely.
"You must be careful, there's a force field that surrounds this whole mansion, if you're not careful enough you'll crash into it and be pushed back out." She explains, knocking on the force field with her hand, "But it's okay to touch it, as long as you don't intend to break in, or out."
Greyson huffs, "This mansion has a unique security." He says, sarcasm dripping in his tone.
"I agree, my father made it." She says, playing with a Bluebell.
"Your father?" Greyson repeats, aghast.
"Uh... Yeah, he's the owner of this mansion, you see." She answers, her turquoise eyes widen innocently.
"...And your father is...?" He queeries.
"Petter Kirkland."
"Petter... HOLY POOP! I'M... But that means... You're-Oh snap, I'm really really sorry if I said something offensive, I... Forgive me for not realising... Sorry... I really mean it...I... Please save me from your wrath! Don't turn me into something... Unnatural." He begins to rant and tidies his ruffled clothes and hair.
"Calm down!" The girl says loudly, matching his voice, but then she blushes, "I won't tell my father and do trust me that I have no intention to turn you into something unnatural." She says, lowering her voice.
"Thank you... Milady." Greyson says awkwardly.
"Um... You don't need to call me Milady, just Freya, if you would." She says.
"Uh... As Milad-I mean, Freya-Okay, F-Freya." Greyson says, stuttering because her name feels so foreign to his tongue. Nobles tend to name their child weird names like Sansa, Ilia, Egred, and such.
She smiles a bit, then, a very small smile.
"If it's alright with you, may I have your name?" She asks, shifting closer to the barrier.
"Greyson, Greyson Chance."
"Greyson... That's a nice name." She mumbles, repeating his name in her head.
