prologue - 1
Mar 01, 2020
The sun hadn't even begun to rise, at the early hour of which Aria embarked on her way to the school. Not that the sun rose very early in the City-- not like it used to in the old days or by the water at least. It took quite a few hours in the morning for the sun's light to permeate through the smog; usually Aria would see the rays of sunlight only after her first class of the day. This fact made it all that much harder for her to keep awake as she sat on the trolley this mundane monday morning.
She rested her head on the window while the trolley was zipped along by the wiring that connects the many districts of the City.
Her ride was one of the longest among the students who attended the school-- all the way from fifteenth. This fact gave her plenty of time to get homework done or even read a book during her morning commute, though this was never how Aria chose to use her time. Rather she continued to do the only thing she ever does...
Recommendation for you
-
Recommendation
Domino Tower
BL 53.5k likes
-
Recommendation
Out of the Blue
Romance 2.5m likes
-
Recommendation
Do You Even Witch
BL 4.6m likes
-
Recommendation
Humor me
Slice of life 2.9m likes
-
Recommendation
Strange and Wild
BL 620.2k likes
-
Recommendation
Long Exposure
LGBTQ+ 2.3m likes
-
Feeling lucky
Random series you may like
they call her Red
1.7k views5 subscribers
There was a district in the City, they called it the 16ths. There was a club— the Colors Club, to be exact. Then there was a girl, and they called her Red.
Red was the best of the Colors you could get. Selling herself, a fantasy— along with a couple drinks, a couple pills, and red dye number 3.
And everything was fine. She was dancing, she was smiling. She was laughing, she was crying.
And she was fine.
**Updates every Sunday**
They Call Her RED: It is the beginning, but also the nihilistic end, of one teenage addict’s attempt to find happiness in the late-stage capitalist hellscape that is the year twenty-nineteen.
All this and more conveniently compacted into a cyberpunk comic told from the perspective of the girl with Red hair— armed with only a deathwish and the cigarette between her lips.
Red was the best of the Colors you could get. Selling herself, a fantasy— along with a couple drinks, a couple pills, and red dye number 3.
And everything was fine. She was dancing, she was smiling. She was laughing, she was crying.
And she was fine.
**Updates every Sunday**
They Call Her RED: It is the beginning, but also the nihilistic end, of one teenage addict’s attempt to find happiness in the late-stage capitalist hellscape that is the year twenty-nineteen.
All this and more conveniently compacted into a cyberpunk comic told from the perspective of the girl with Red hair— armed with only a deathwish and the cigarette between her lips.
Comments (0)
See all