Chapter One and Two.

Perhaps the chapters are too short, but this is my first time, so please provide feedback!

Chapter One: Seeds and Stars

Mr Parkes sat, staring pensively at the sky above him; silence engulfed this young man as his mind wandered the heavens and his soul stared up at the million broken pieces of glass scattered, gleaming across the sky. He thought of the being - no, the angel - that he had witnessed that night.

We met at the ambassador's Ball: An annual event which gathered the most prestigious people of the time to a banquet. Of course, there was no shortage of entertainment, and as my evenings were mostly spent in front of glowing embers, I wandered in, straightening my sleek, chestnut hair, the navy bow-tie and wearing the stern look I had practiced for so long in the mirror.  I was guided through brightly lit, marble corridors, decorated with the golden frames of Britain's previous ambassadors. Certainly, I would be up there soon.

“The Ballroom is through here sir.”

The expressionless butler and his astoundingly neat, imperial moustache showed me a great oak door, polished brass, and my own plain reflection. The doors swung open at my arrival for me to receive a blinding flash of white light from a magnificent crystal chandelier, and the most astonishing sight I had ever seen. If ever I laid eyes upon an angel it would be her: The woman dancing directly under it.

Many had attended the Ball, I noticed Mr. Isaac Newton explaining the laws of gravity with ferocious gestures of frustration to Mr Da Vinci, the famous Artist and Inventor.

“No, no, no!” I heard him shout, shaking his head “The apple fell on my head!”

“Oh you klazomaniac! Do you not think I realised that?”

I continued walking towards my old friend, as he sat, in his traditional suit: alone, as he observed the upper-class chaos unfolding before him.

“May I take a seat?” I asked, he turned, and the corners of his eyes crinkled upwards, just like mine.

“Indeed.” Einstein replied, shifting himself in his seat so he could view me properly. I had kept my eyes on that woman for a while now, and only looked away when he started chuckling, to give him a questioning look.

“Her name is Layla”

“Pardon me?”

“I said, her name is Layla” He repeated himself, slower, the white hair nodded towards the laughing figure, dancing. Her dress, azure of colour, swayed to and fro with the graceful movements of its owner. Her dark black hair, like silk, lay across her shoulders, and her eyes - her eyes sparkled with the joy of life and stole the breath from my lungs.

“It is.” I replied, taking a glass of white wine from a butler. I surveyed the scene from the white clothed table we were sat at. Mozart stood, at one corner, composing an orchestra, eyes closed, brows furrowed, and with Beethoven glaring at him from a distance. Dresses swirled and men danced. Timing was the key to the unison of partners and the momentum of the music. I looked up to find colourful illustrations of biblical stories: Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Paul's Conversion…

“Would you care to dance, kind sir?”

The voice brought my wandering mind back to solid ground. Layla smiled, her eyes lit up, her cheeks flushed, and my heart tried to escape with my emotions.

Chapter Two: “Close your eyes, Fall in love, Stay there.”

He was one of the few men I had seen with such a striking appearance. Bold, blue eyes, shiny brown hair, and a playful smile always seemed to linger around his lips. Yet is was hard not to fall in love with such a figure. The reason I was sent was of great importance, and of a high level of danger. Yet something about Mr. Jonathan Parkes stopped me from completing my task. Something about him made me fall for him unlike any man I had ever seen. What that something was remained a mystery to me for the rest of my life, and it indeed posed a problem.

*

Kim Jong-Un hesitantly waited for the curtains to be plucked apart; revealing a large crowd of his brain-washed followers.

I had stood before them, the blood-red curtain, embellished with gold, gleamed behind me; a sea of heads, all the same, all cheered, all at the same time, all at the same time. It was a communist dictators’ dream come true.

“My people,” I had adopted a nervous twitch when I lied.

“My people: my brothers, my sisters, my young and my elder.” I blinked.

“We have grown over the years as an empire. We have flourished and will continue to flourish under my leadership, and your work. Today, marks the day when I became your leader, when I freed you of the tyranny of democracy you were under, and when we became one: not one better or worse than another. Today marks the day of a Communist empires’ birth!” At this, the ordered rows of citizens cheered in unison. And clapped: In unison.

*

I looked at the walls, staring; wondering when it would answer my question. The wallpaper, decorated with delicate dancing roses stared at me as I lay, sprawled, tired, and confused on my bed. My bedchamber was of a reasonable size; of course I would have to head back soon, but was confused me most was the recurring memory of my dress whirling and swirling around me, jewels glistening, golden light surrounding us, and my laughter drowned by music. The one I was about to kill held me close, watching me laugh, smiling, and gazing at me with those piercing blue eyes. I was supposed to assassinate him there and then. Get the job over with. I had to return with the British ambassador's’ head in my hand. But how can I do that? How can I take such a precious life? How can I turn away from my feelings without them returning stronger? How can I return to a crowd cheering at my sins? A crowd that had no personality no vision; a crowd with nothing but my cousin to lead them? It was with these disordered thoughts that I slowly drifted into oblivion.