It is now that Vincent recognizes the array of steel and chrome towers that decorated the area and replace the broken shanties from before. He looks upward towards the sky and sees a dark cylindrical skyscraper that seems to reach the clouds. It has bulging glass windows that resemble rounded petals, and towards the very top of the building where the roof blends into the sky. A stalled, blinking red light can be seen seeping through a bundle of grey clouds. Vincent brings his gaze back down to ground level and walks towards the plaque on the face of this monstrous building. He grazes his hand against the marble. Not many people have their last name adorning one of the tallest skyscrapers in the world's largest city, but he did. He somehow found his way back home.

A gentle cough breaks through Vincent's well deserved daze. He didn't realize how long he had been blatantly standing in front of the glass doors, preventing other pedestrians from entering the building. After what all had occurred, time started twisting and contorting in his mind, becoming an entirely different concept altogether.

"Excuse me sir, would you like to come inside? You don't look so well sir. We can have someone escort you to your flat if you need it."

"No... I don't need that, thanks"

Vincent begrudgingly walks past the delightful doorman and his chipper smile. Every summer he occasionally brings in a little blonde girl with perfect pin straight hair and takes her on a tour of every single floor of the enormous building. She is always so impressed that he knows so many lavish people who would walk around his building daily. She looks at him like he is the most important man in the entire universe. Vincent can't remember any time in his life where he looked at any adult with this sort of fascination.

He makes his way across the lobby and through the routine mass of intimidated stares and awkward attempts of avoidance from the employees. Vincent charges towards the elevator, and once he is inside the poor young maid is completely flabbergasted.

"Oh Sir! I... I'm..."

Vincent turns and disappointingly looks at the stammering lady. Her face sinks into a pool of blush, presses the button for the closest floor, and flees as quickly as she can.

"Oh well," Vincent thinks to himself, "at least she tried"

The elevator ding goes off when he finally reaches the very top floor. His mother owns the entire top three floors actually, but Vincent enjoys exiling himself to the very top. A key code is needed to actually get into the top three floors. It's actually very simple. His mother's birthday is needed to get to the bottom two, but his birthday gives him access to his own space. Only one other person knew his personal key code. Rosa needed it to give him grilled cheese sandwiches and then later help him get grease stains out of the leather couch before his mother would see.

The walls of his flat are all a pure lab coat white, lacking in any sort of teenage personality but keeping up a modern flare. Every single aspect of this floor is crisp and geometric. It contains different rooms, but not a single one is completely closed off from the other. Glass divides some of these living spaces, whereas stylish differences in elevation also contribute to these loose boundaries. However, one wall actually consisted entirely of glass and bubbled out like a fish bowl. This is Vincent's favorite part of his entire room. This is where he often spends his nights sleeping on the gentle curve of the window instead of his mattress. He finds comfort in submerging into a gradual swirling vortex of polluted clouds that are somehow still able to periodically glisten in the light of the sun. It's here that he feels the least alone.

Rosa discovers him once again clinging to the glass in his sleep. She pulls back the thin sheet and ratty wool blanket and starts shaking him violently while weeping.

"Mr. Vincent!! How dare you play these games with me?!! No one picked you up from the school and no one knew where you were!"

"Rosa don't worry. I was only gone for about two hours, I think."

"You think? Well think again Mr. Vincent! It is 8 in the morning right now, don't you see the sunrise?" Vincent tries to recall when exactly he stumbled home yesterday. He didn't think it was too dark but his memory is fading now. "I was waiting here as long as I could yesterday, but I had to come back to my son Mr. Vincent so I left at 9"

There is no way he could have arrived home that late last night! The graduation ceremony ended at 3 and he only stumbled around for what seemed like an hour or two. It was still daylight when he talked to the doorman and the maid, but if everything he believed was correct, that would mean that about 4 hours of his life completely disappeared.

This had to be the work of the stranger. Vincent desperately needs answers but it would break his heart if he makes Rosa more upset than she is right now.

"I'm sorry Rosa, really I am"

She swoops him up into a gigantic embrace. Vincent rests his head on her plump chest and rocks him back and forth. "Just promise me that you will never do something like this again. It is so unlike you! You are always such a good, sweet boy Mr. Vincent. And don't worry, I won't tell your mother that Mrs. Weaver called earlier about her cell phone."

Vincent chuckles under his breath. "Oh Rosa no, it was very wrong of me to do that. That woman needs to be reimbursed in some sort of way"

"Shush shush shush Mr. Vincent. I handle your mother's checkbook. It's taken care of. You wrote her a very beautiful apology by the way." Vincent looks up at her in shock and she in return winks at him.

"I really wish you didn't do that," Vincent looks back down, disgusted with himself, "I don't deserve any sort of special treatment"

"Yes you do Mr. Vincent, of course you do"

"And why the hell is that?" Vincent snaps back, "most people could go to jail for destruction of property and here I am prancing around out in the open because I can write them off! The world is a terrible place for everyone else. I see it every single day, so why am I exempt? Why can't everyone else catch a break once in a while? I take all of their good fortune and stow it away somewhere inside of me." He pauses for a brief moment "I took it away from them"

"Mr. Vincent you know very well the world doesn't work like that, and everyone has their own sadness. You suffer just like everyone else Mr. Vincent." She takes in a very deep breath. "We just want you to forget it for a while."

This phrase from Rosa sounds cryptic in a way, and completely unlike her normal tone of voice. Vincent breaks away from her hold and looks puzzled.

"Why? And what do you mean by 'we', Rosa?"

She is frazzled. She can tell that she said something that she was not supposed to, "Oh, uh, nothing Mr. Vincent! I mean, I mean your mother and me of course Mr. Vincent! And well we just want you to be happy because she works so hard, and you know she can't come see you at school all the time"

"You know that doesn't bother me Rosa. I'm smart enough to know that she chose a time consuming career."

"Yes but that can be hard on any boy really!"

Just then Vincent starts to get flashbacks of his encounter with the stranger at the bus stop and the musical voice of the young woman. They knew about his father. Vincent has never asked anyone about his father before. Doesn't that seem unnatural for a young boy to not be curious about a lack of a father figure in his life? Vincent wonders now what has been mentally wrong with him all these years for not at all being compelled to even think about his own father. For years he just simply watched others. The little girl and the doorman, his team mate and his pushy father, and countless other families. Every single instance he had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach like something was missing. Not only that, he felt an overwhelming sense of joy to see these pairs really interacting with each other. Maybe interacting isn't exactly the right word. Maybe it was playing? No this word seems too juvenile. He couldn't decide. In any case, this joy was immediately replaced by a selfish remorse that Vincent always felt guilty about. How dare he feel envious of these people struggling to survive, when he was living so successfully? Any one of them would have traded lives with him in a heartbeat. Wouldn't they?

"Rosa" pause "do you happen to know anything at all about my father? Has mother ever mentioned anything to you before?"

"Oh well you never asked about him before! Why the sudden interest dear Vinny?" Again she makes the choice to use this completely new tone. This doesn't sit well in Vincent's stomach. He cringes at the fact that she actually called him by that abbreviated sickening pet name. He feels as if he is treading dangerous waters.

Just then the ancestral beat from before leaks into the room and swirls itself around Vincent. He becomes anxious and searches for the same paralyzing darkness, waiting for it to strike, but it never comes. Vincent is able to move as he pleases, but he still chooses to remain stationary and becomes encompassed by the familiar rhythm. Rosa behaves as though she can not hear it at all.

"Be careful Vincent" The young woman's voice breaks through the tension once again. At this moment his paranoia is completely eradicated. Although it is cautionary, there is a comforting presence about her. A genuineness that he has never felt on any other person before, "Lalaina?" He thinks to himself.

"Be careful. She's clever. Think about what you say" Vincent felt a brush against his shoulder, a sign that he isn't alone.

"Well I guess you were right Rosa. Now that I think about it, it is very difficult not having parents around, especially during your developmental years." He stops to check Rosa's expression. She is obviously taken back, but keeps her cool. He realizes that they are caught in a trap of verbatim.

"I just think that, maybe, knowing more about my father may help me reconcile any confusing emotions that I have now about not only his absence, but my mother's as well."

A tightening pressure of approval is applied to his shoulder. It is Rosa's turn now.

"In that case," she starts out in this new tone, but quickly transitions back into her old self. "Of course Mr. Vincent! Of course, of course. Well it's quite sad actually, that's why I never mentioned it to you before. You've always been such a fragile boy and all. I didn't want it to shock you." A staged melancholy pause ensues, "Your father was a scientist, and some of his work is still relevant today."

Vincent interrupts, "You almost make it sound like he is a thing of the past"

Rosa cunningly replies, "Well Vinny, that's because he is. He died while your mother was pregnant with you. A tragic overdose unfortunately. You see, he had been going through a rough patch with his research. He wasn't financially or emotionally ready for a son anyway. So really, in a way, maybe it is better for you this way. The money from his research and publicity after his death really helped fund your mother's career and now I get to take care of you, my boy!"

The lack of empathy in her words is more than Vincent can bear. Her words, whether or not they had any truth to them, are like tiny needles that had punctured through every single cell in his body. He clenches his fists and struggles to fight back tears. Vincent would have lunged forward at her, but Lalaina's musical shield protects him from giving himself away.

"No, don't Vincent! Those are all lies"

Vincent now can see a dark silhouette appear in front of him, separating him from Rosa. It was transparent enough that he could make out Rosa's poker face, but distracting enough to prevent him from attacking it. He sees the figure of a young woman, slender and petite, but powerful. Despite her size, the shadows radiating from her burst out in waves, keeping in time with the tribal beat that has been playing the entire time. This magnificent sight regains Vincent's confidence and he is able to continue on with such an unforgiving conversation.

He consciously contorts his anger into a false sadness.

"But why Rosa? If he was really as brilliant as you say he was, he would have known how harmful those things would be, for him, and... for me" He manages to let one angry tear escape so that his sob story would seem slightly more convincing. It works.

"Oh honey! You know sometimes there are things in this world that we just aren't supposed to know about" She walks over towards him, arms outstretched for a hug.

"Í guess you are right Rosa. There are things that I am never supposed to know about. That's why you have kept me in the dark so long about my father and you keep me completely separated from my mother at all times."

He has her trapped now.

She struggles now to keep her composure. Her entire identity is under speculation now that Vincent is able to understand that she might have been the reason he had trouble connecting with others after all. All the write offs, special treatment, fulfilling his every single wish, was this actually done out of love? Or was it a ploy to keep him stable and out of the public eye? She always wanted him to be a perfect little boy.

"How dare you say that?" a puff of anger, "I've just been following your mother's orders! She's really the one to blame! I've been more of a mother to you than she has!"

"Press her for more, just a tiny bit more" commands the silhouette

Vincent takes one step towards her.

"But why Rosa? Why would any mother be so out of touch with her own son to the point that she didn't even show up for his birthday for the past six years? Or his high school graduation?"

Before she could answer Vincent understood.

"I'm not supposed to talk to her am I?"

Rosa quickly pulls back her hands and puts two fingers against her ears.

"Code red; the target is aware. Repeat the target is aware"

Just then a huge commotion entraps the top of the building. Helicopters and all sorts of spinning propellers take up all the air space and cut through Vincent's precious swirling smog. Bright searchlights pierce through all of the glass in the room and leave him temporarily blind. Rosa attempts to sneak upstairs and exit through the hatch to the roof, but Lalaina's figure uses her pulsing shadows to anchor Rosa to the steps. They cling to her feet like a network of roots, but soon travel up her legs like veins. Her root system finally reaches Rosa's vital organs, where they expand far too rapidly for her physical body to handle. Instantly she dies from multiple excruciating ruptures and aneurysms. She is released from her bond and tumbles down the stairs.

It is in this moment that Vincent finally regains his sight. He sees the woman who he once thought to be his only source of parental love mangled on the fresh white carpet that she cleaned every day. If it hadn't been for the conversation that just transpired, Vincent would have leapt towards her in an instant and rocked her in his arm while sobbing. However, now he wasn't even sure who this woman is anymore. Out of reverence, he carries the fresh corpse over to his glass bubble canopy to check for any sort of wound. He could tell that she is suffering from massive internal bleeding for some reason, but he needed a closer look to figure out why.

One of the larger black helicopters spots Vincent as he is setting Rosa down on the glass and immediately opens fire. Numerous bullets strike the powerful glass until it finally gives out and shatters into billions of flaky pieces. Vincent is able to lunge away safely and hide behind an industrial kitchen island, but the same cannot be said for the recently deceased Rosa. Once the glass shatters, her body is immediately punctured by hundreds of tiny bullets. The floating glass around her cuts her and exposes layers upon layers of flesh, blood, tissue, and bone. She is absolutely indistinguishable now. Vincent watches as her body seemingly takes an eternity to obey the laws of gravity. She floats down towards the ground effortlessly until she is no longer within sight.

Satisfied with their work, the helicopters cease their attack and head downward towards the ground to retrieve something that was once precious to them. Several moments pass until Vincent works up the courage to get out of his hiding spot. Every glass structure within the flat is reduced to little crystal beads. Because the glass walls are no longer supporting some of the other structures, the elevated bedroom completely crashes downward toward the living room. The bed itself slides down the bedroom floor and flops into the living room below. It knocks off the mounted plasma television and the television snaps in half between the weight of the bed and the contact of the living room floor.

Vincent now becomes aware that everything in his flat is about to collapse on itself. Before he could even process his next move, he noticed a swift wind blowing in his direction. A blurry figure rushes towards him, grabs his waist with a huge force that almost squeezes all the air out of Vincent's lungs, and continues sprinting down the side of the building at an unbelievable speed.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the same puffs of wiry white hair belonging to the stranger, but this time he is able to see his entire profile. He has a very flat, wide rimmed nose, distinctive cheekbones with flattering dimples. His skin is dark and leathery with the occasional dark freckle popping up here and there. The same wiry white hair decorates the top of his earthy eyes in the form of bushy eyebrows and unmanageable facial hair. He notices Vincent's stare and replies with a glare of his very own.

"Hery!" shouts Lalaina, "I'm sorry. It happened again."

He is very stern and abrupt with his reply. "We will discuss this later. Not now."

Lalaina's apparition is struggling to keep up with the stranger's speed. She is constantly appearing, disappearing, and then reappearing again, as if her energy is fading. Her dark pigmentation is now constantly fading from a dark shadowy tone into a beaming amber, a similar shade to the eyes Vincent saw when he first met her. At this point she is practically a ball of burning light.

"I need an opening, now!" shouts the stranger.

"Got it Hery!"

She then shoots straight ahead and veers quickly to the left. Her light contorts the glass window and turns it into a soft malleable liquid.

"Hang on"

The stranger makes the same abrupt left and leaps through the melted glass. Surprisingly, once Vincent passes through it the liquid doesn't even touch his skin. It is as if there is an invisible impermeable membrane shielding Vincent and the stranger from the rest of the outside world. They crash into one of his mother's various office floors and knock over a few collapsible cubicles and cheaply made chairs. Vincent is thrown to the ground and hits a copy machine with a loud thud. A huge jolt of pain goes up Vincent's spine and reaches his head. While Vincent rubs the back of his head, he notices the melted glass slowly contorting itself back to its original form. The damaged office supplies and cubicles also mend themselves effortlessly to look as though the three, or technically speaking, two of them haven't been there at all.