Prologue

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the world of tomorrow!” His arms flew wide open and the group gasped at the magnificence of the beauty towering over them.

Masses of tinted glass lined the walls dulling the harsh summer rays, whilst the temperature remained at a cool 20°C, aided through the use of a highly advanced air conditioning system that ran through the whole of the 68 storeys. Slick straight lines flowed throughout the building in silver and white, paired with the most up-to-date technology you could get; it was a sight that could take your breath away.

The group amassed at the feet of this giant stared upwards, most with faces of disbelief, some even with mouths open wide enough that you were sure a fist could fit inside most comfortably, others formed tight little o’s that on any other day would have been grasped at by a youthful boy yearning for yet another fantasy. Yet there were a small number in this cluster who regarded the sight casually, as if it was everyday that you saw creatures of this ilk.

“Now if you would kindly follow me, we’ll begin our tour of the facilities here.” And with a flourish he turned tail and, as it would seem, glided away. His company trailing after as if in a trance.

Bringing up this company were a select few who dallied behind, no longer caring for what was to come, instead taking the time to concentrate on what they felt were more important matters.

“I’m telling you we need something special.” The slightly high voice of a young man not yet cracked from age, yet broken from adolescence, passed through firm thin lips that belonged to the body of an Adonis. If you were a cheerleader that was. From the blond hair and blue eyes, right down to the red jacket over beefy shoulders, he was every inch the clichéd high school jock. However if one was to take a moment passed the first glance at what would appear an adoring crowd surrounding him, one would see that a brain obviously resided inside that head.

In a filled in circle stood a group, a splattering of all the different types imaginable, walking, it would seem, quite comfortably together.

“Maybe it’s not the music that needs to change, maybe it’s the group.” The distinctive Jamaican accent poured through pouty soft brown lips, encased in a heart shaped face. The black platted hair poured into a fountain atop her head to spill down onto slim shoulders. A bright orange top paired with a rainbow stripped skirt and chunky cork platforms made her stand out from the huddle.

“And what’s that suppose to mean?” A finely plucked brow arched over dark blue grey eyes, as dark red lips set into a hard line. A hand flicked back an imaginary strand of hair, because of course never on this girl was anything out of place. Never.

“That maybe we need to look at the group before we look at the music.” Hands held before her defensively, she calmly returned her answer to the clipped tone. “After all, we’ve been trying this for a while now.”

“True. Maybe we just need to change our sound.” Purple stained lips tugged into a smirk, directed solely at another boy. Deep blue eyes stared out from the wild bangs escaping the lose ponytail of a slim tall boy, surrounded by a soft touch of lilac powder. The androgynous image was completed with a loose baby blue shirt and tight denim jeans.

“That’s still the music.”

“No you misunderstand. Maybe we just need to mess about the harmony. Try something new.” A satisfied smile crossed the purple lips as a murmur of agreement spread through the group, par from the one boy at who it was aimed.

“And what would be wrong with our harmony.” Lips pulled tight, a slight flush brushed across his cheeks, but the voice was laced with anger. Sandy brown hair formed bangs in front of dull hazel eyes.

“It’s a bit flat, and even with the equipment that I’m having installed, we need it to be just as good live as modified on CD.” Lips slightly parted beneath oval glasses, a neat fringe brushed against the top of them. Half lidded green eyes peeped out from behind the thin frames, not even bothering to raise his head to look up at the boy stood next to him, as he only reached the shoulders of most of the gathered.

“Look if you have a problem with my voice just say it! Don’t beat around the bush.” Angrily turning to face the others the sandy haired boy awaited a response that wasn’t coming. Storming off ahead, the group turned to look at each other, before the Jamaican girl and small boy trailed after him.

The remaining members slowly looked at each other, then the tall jock side-stepped to allow the young aristocratic-like girl ahead, before slinging his arm around the tall blond androgynous boy, they too followed after the others.

Twisting his head; the slim blond boy looked behind them to see a small shadow of a figure shuffling along behind them, eyes staring at his feet, a messy mop of hair hiding them from view, all whilst rubbing the top of his arm due to a well placed welcome-and-look-out punch from their local testosterone freak.