2.

If Cocoon were a white shirt, Sub Rosa would be the stain someone's knocked over coffee created, a hot and sticky brown permanence that the surrounding white was forced to accept exists. The rails of the balcony had brown specks that flaked at my touch; when I peered through the rails, the walkway below was spotted with the same brown; I looked at the vents on low rooftops and they, too, were plagued with brown.

Sub Rosa, as Elena described it, was Cocoon's little secret, the one place that wasn't made of buildings reaching fifty floors at minimum, the one place the commercials won't call "a great place for family living."

I liked the brown stained city. We used to live in East Side of Sub Rosa. It was my fault we moved to West Side.

I watched the people on the walkway five floors below go about their day. Mostly older folks were out. In East Side there were more houses than apartments, and they even had more space between them where some kids could play. There's just a main walkway in West Side, and in the two days since the move I had yet to hear anyone playing anywhere.

A loud banging made me jump and my thoughts scattered. I scrambled off the balcony, locked it, and tossed the key into a nearby plant. The knocking persisted. I breathed and slowed in my efforts. Elena had the key, the person at the door did not.

"Hello? Anyone there? Don't be shy, we're all friendly in this building." I stopped moving all together. I was not allowed to be seen anymore. If she thought no one was here, maybe she'd go away. "I know someone's in there, your light is on," the voice slurred. My eyes flicked up to said offending lights overhead.

"Listen, my wife and I like to gather up some residents and eat on the roof. I know you just moved in, but if you decide to be social, just come up. We don't bite." Heels clicked down the hall, away from the door.

I stepped over crayons and paper scattered on the floor as I closed in on the light switch, flicked it off, and headed to my room. The sliding door to the balcony elbowed its way into my line of sight on the way. I scrunched my nose. I wanted to go back out, but it wasn't safe when Elena would get off work soon anyway. I forced myself into my bedroom and pulled out a puzzle with the imaginings of the sounds and sights and smells of the party above lurking in the back of my mind.

It was at the sound of the door opening some time later that I remembered the chaos of drawings littering the living room. A name echoed throughout the apartment along with shrieks of disgust at the mess. I scrambled up of the floor.

No one living here goes by that name, but I knew she meant to call for me.