Beep! Beep! Beep!
An alarm clock's loud ringing suddenly pulls me out of sleep.
I see the time displayed is 6 a.m.
Another day. Another morning like all the rest. I wake and rise from bed as if this will be an unremarkable, typical day. The alarm's sound echoes softly through the small space of my room, then gradually dies away into silence. I remove my blanket and allow my feet to lower and rest on the floor at the bed's edge. The floor is cool and pleasant against my bare skin, smooth and sleek just like polished marble.
My bedroom is quite large perhaps even too spacious but I've grown accustomed to it over time. The ceiling is made up of pure white panels, and the walls have soft lighting fixtures installed along them that automatically adjust their color and brightness depending on what time of day it is.
Everything inside the room appears expensive and designed in a minimalist style, the kind of bedroom that would cause other people to stop and stare in admiration. It's the type of luxury that doesn't make an obvious effort to display itself it features clean, simple lines, windows made of smart glass that can change their transparency, and soft grey curtains that open and close on their own in response to the morning sunlight.
The luxury and wealth surrounding me is not the result of my own personal effort, dedication, or hard work. Instead, it all originates from my father. More accurately, it represents accumulated wealth across many generations of my family's history. Our family name has held respect and recognition dating back to the time of my ancestors, and the family fortune has continued to increase and multiply seemingly of its own accord throughout the years.
Despite possessing substantial wealth and resources, we deliberately choose to live our daily lives as though we were an average, ordinary family without special privileges. My father frequently reminds me that money should be viewed as nothing more than a practical tool for accomplishing goals it should absolutely never become a reason or excuse to abandon our core values or lose sight of our true identity and what defines us as individuals and as a family. That also applies to me.
I rise up from where I was sitting and stretch out my entire back, extending and bending my spine until I hear the small, quiet popping and cracking sounds that come from my joints as they adjust. Then I reach both of my arms upward toward the ceiling, extending my body fully until my posture becomes completely upright and straight.
A small digital screen positioned on one of the walls suddenly comes to life and flickers on, displaying multiple pieces of information: the current time—6:01 a.m.—along with the ambient temperature of the room and a complete list of everything I have scheduled for today. I deliberately choose to ignore what the screen is showing and instead walk across the room toward the window.
As the curtains gradually part and move to the sides, warm, golden sunlight spills and floods abundantly into the bedroom space. The external world visible through the window appears far removed and distant from my current location, and the atmosphere outside has taken on a rich, warm golden hue from the morning sun.
From this elevated position—situated on the absolute highest floor of our entire house—I possess a clear view and can see the vast majority of the extensive property that lies spread out far below me. I can observe the extensive driveway that stretches across the grounds, the carefully maintained and neatly trimmed hedges that line various sections of the property, and the various security drones that move and glide with perfect silence along the outer perimeter boundaries of the estate.
Looking down at the grounds below.
I observe the customary contingent of bodyguards stationed below, all uniformly dressed in tailored black suits and positioned strategically near the front entrance gates. Their physical movements are remarkably precise, controlled, and perfectly synchronized with one another—executed with such mechanical exactness that they appear almost robotic in their coordination. In this modern age, it has genuinely become increasingly challenging and ambiguous to distinguish and determine which individuals are actually biological humans and which ones might be artificial constructs, androids, or humans enhanced with advanced technology.
Then I observe someone familiar emerging and stepping out through the front door—a notably tall man dressed in an impeccably tailored dark blue suit that appears to be constructed from the finest, most luxurious fabrics and materials, as though the suit itself were woven from wealth and expense. This is my father.
His gait and stride demonstrate absolute confidence and complete steadiness, with no wavering or uncertainty in his movement. The golden rays of the morning sunlight catch and illuminate the faint silvery-gray strands of hair that have appeared at his temples over the years.
He perpetually presents himself this way—always maintaining an outward composure and calm demeanor, remaining focused and attentive to his priorities, yet somehow emotionally distant and removed from those around him. I have no doubt that today, just as he does every single day, he will proceed directly to work as part of his regular routine.
"Hi Honey!'' rings out in an energetic and cheerful voice belonging to a woman. I can instantly recognize and identify who this person is.
It's my stepmother, whose name is Camille.
''You forgot your lunchbox,' she calls out warmly, extending and holding out the item toward him with a bright, welcoming grin displayed across her face. My father rotates his body slightly in her direction and returns her smile it's a small and carefully controlled expression, but it carries genuine warmth and sincerity beneath it.
''Anyway, you look absolutely majestic and impressive right now, honey,'' she continues, adding her words with a playful, lighthearted laugh that suggests she's teasing him in an affectionate way."
I cannot hear every single word they exchange from this distance up here, but I observe them as they converse with one another. I watch as she reaches up and adjusts the collar of his coat, straightening it carefully.
My father wraps his arms around her in a light, brief hug. Seeing this interaction causes me to step back slightly from the window. Although they appear to look perfect together as a couple, there's always something about their relationship that feels… distant and removed. It's not that they seem cold or unfriendly toward each other it's more that they seem to exist and live on a completely different level or plane of existence than I do. They inhabit a world that I'm not fully part of.
Regardless of everything I've observed, when I examine my father's suit and his overall presentation and style, it somehow still registers as insufficiently luxurious or authentic to me. It's expensive and well-made, certainly, but there's something about it that doesn't feel genuinely valuable or real. I've come to understand that a person doesn't fundamentally transform or become a better version of themselves simply because they acquire and wear clothing that costs significant money.
That being said, if someone were to offer me an expensive, high-quality suit identical to his, I would absolutely not decline or refuse such a generous gift. Standing here and observing them interact from this distance and height feels somewhat awkward and uncomfortable, if I'm being completely honest. I would genuinely prefer to show respect for people's romantic and personal relationships by leaving them private rather than watching and observing them from afar.
Just as I extend my hand toward the edge of the curtain with the intention of drawing it closed and ending my observation, I suddenly become aware that my father has lifted his gaze upward and is looking directly precisely at my window where I currently stand.
My hand abruptly stops moving and becomes completely frozen in place. Then, with urgency, I quickly pull the curtain completely shut. I'm fairly certain that he noticed me standing at the window watching.
''Brother, are you there?' a voice calls out clearly from somewhere behind me—it's a familiar voice that carries a calm and steady tone throughout. It's my twin brother, Lithian.
''Wait, I'm just going to clean up and organize my bedroom right now,'' I respond while still keeping my body partially oriented toward the window despite no longer looking outside. ''Oh, alright then. Just make sure to come to the kitchen after you finish,'' he instructs.
''Yes, I will!' I confirm enthusiastically. The sound of his footsteps gradually becomes quieter and eventually fades completely away as he walks down the hallway and moves farther from my room.
Despite the fact that our household employs more than sufficient staff and personnel who could easily handle the task of cleaning my bedroom for me, I have always made the deliberate choice to clean it myself.
The room itself is quite spacious perhaps even excessively large for a single person but I genuinely derive satisfaction and enjoyment from performing the work with my own hands. My mother instilled in me a valuable lesson during my childhood that I have always maintained and carried forward throughout my life: Do not become overly dependent or reliant upon other people for everything. Instead, cultivate and develop your own personal strength, resilience, and self-sufficiency. At the same time, show genuine kindness and generosity toward others, particularly toward those individuals who make efforts to support you and are present in your life.
I embrace and live according to that philosophy every single day without exception. Therefore, I move methodically and quietly throughout my bedroom space, carefully folding my blanket into neat sections, smoothing out all the wrinkles and creases in my bed sheets until they're perfectly arranged, and retrieving a glass of water that has been sitting on my nightstand.
The sun continues its steady ascent higher into the sky above, casting soft, gentle rays of light that filter delicately back through the curtains once again. In this peaceful moment, everything that surrounds me feels absolutely perfect, completely normal, and perfectly ordinary as though nothing unusual or extraordinary is happening at all. It's just a great day to begin.