The coffee maker gives a sputtering hiss as it begins to dribble coffee into the chipped mug under the dispenser. Lily pushes her wild curls up into a bun of sorts atop her head, her wand serving as a hair stick. A single gold ringlet falls down at her temple and she blows it away with an annoyed huff.

She rifles through the cabinet above the kitchen in search of painkillers. Mer, her roommate and certified best friend, groans into consciousness at the noise.

"Happy 21st to me."

"Now that we've both had our fun, can we maybe not ever do this again?" Lily asks.

"No promises, especially if Nick throws another get together at his family's place."

Nick, the third in their trio of magic welding college students, throws a new party every weekend while his parents are away on business. The perks of being a witch is quick cleanup, so unless they're performing regular tracing spells his parents are none the wiser.

"You've got class at 10, Mer. Get your ass off the couch and go take a shower. You smell like booze and sweat."

Merula throws up her hand in a not so friendly gesture and Lily returns it as she successfully produces a small blue bottle of store brand ibuprofen. Two little pills rattle into her hand and she tosses them back dry, bending her face under the faucet and drinking water from the tap.

Mer disappears into their cramped bathroom and Lily hears the ancient pipes groan within the walls as she turns the water on. She picks her way across their living space to the short hall leading to their bedrooms, ducking into her own and closing the door softly behind her.

A quick glance out the window shows the weather will be its usual overcast with a chance of rain. She conjures a rag and wipes the layer of sweat from her skin, dropping it into the overflowing hamper as she pulls open her closet door. A single clean garment hangs inside, a deep blue dress dotted with sage leaves and blushing roses.

The flowing sleeves and plunging neckline are more than she'd generally go for, though with laundry on her list of chores she doesn't have much choice. She dons the dress and a pair of kitten heels in the same pink as the roses, finding her bag in the same place she'd left in the night before on the floor by her makeshift desk.

A snap of her fingers transports her from her small apartment bedroom to the sprawling design house where she works as a secretary five days a week in the mornings before class. Beautifully manicured topiaries line the cobblestone path leading up to the powder blue doors, sparrows and finches chirping among the leaves.

Lily stops just before pushing through the door, glancing up at the House of Lark sign and smiling. Georgina Lark is the biggest name in witch fashion, and she'd had to fight and work herself to the bone for this internship.

"Lilian! Where have you been?! Monty's been looking for you all morning."

Percy taps her pen against her clipboard as she speaks, though no one would ever accuse the great Persephone Blake of anything other than poise and perfection. Lily flinches. No one at House of Lark calls her by her actual name, because Monty told her if she wanted to make something out of this internship she needed to sound and act like she belonged here.

As far as they know Lilian Vander is a cutthroat fashion witch in the making. Lily Vane, the borderline failing college student who can't get her act together long enough to pass her finals without her parents' help. She slips into Monty's office and finds the man in disarray.

"Vander! Just the witch I'm looking for. Madame Georgina wants a list of our best to take to Nebulae, and you're at the top. I won't force you to go, but if you're serious about a career in this you'll thank me."

Lily's nerves tingle and her mouth drops open. She's only met Madame Georgina once before, passing her in the lobby on the way to her interview. She'd nearly fainted when Georgina complimented her top. Nebulae is the second biggest event of the fashion year, the biggest being the Lumination Conference.

Witches and mortals alike attend both events, trading fashion and holding smaller events during the week leading up to the main events. Nebulae takes place on the moon under the Lunar Dome. All of the top fashion designers from all over the Milky Way will be there showcasing their latest designs.

Carving one's place in the world is difficult enough as a graduate fresh out of Bolderview's Academy for Witchery and Excellence and still in school at Kuhler's Institute. Attending Nebulae will put her name on the radar, maybe even secure her spot at the Lumination Conference.

"Thank you! Monty, you're a rock! I won't let you down, or Madame Georgina."

"You have two weeks, and you can get all the necessary paperwork from Miss Blake. If you're not on the shuttle when it leaves you can kiss this opportunity goodbye and you won't need to bother returning to this office."

The ultimatum hangs like a damocles sword between them.

"Of course, Monty."

"You're dismissed."

Lily's brain stalls at the dismissal, though the glare she receives upon lingering a second too long is enough to get her moving again. She finds Percy still in the hallway, lingering by the door as though she hadn't eavesdropped on the entire conversation.

"Face it, Vander, you don't have the guts to make it in a place like this."

"Monty said I had two weeks, surely that counts for something."

"He gave you two weeks' warning. Nobody wants you to show up to that shuttle, least of all the Madame."

Lily takes a shuddering breath, a feeling not unlike her first day at Bolderview's settling in her stomach. New London is the fashion capital of Earth, with hundreds of design houses across the city. Plenty of them would be happy to accept Lily and her resume, but they wouldn't be House of Lark.

Before she knows it she's back outside, standing on the steps as that familiar blue door closes softly at her back. What was the point of pushing herself for this internship if she's just going to be tossed out a few months later. She'd really thought she'd hit it off with the Madame's compliment.

She can't bear to snap her fingers and watch all her hopes and dreams disappear in an instant, so she trudges down to the train station and hops onto the next train leaving the station. It snakes across New London's fashion district and past various high end restaurants like a silver bullet on its magnetized track.

Lily watches the glittering House of Lark disappear as it grows smaller and flits behind a glass and steel law firm type building, combing her thoughts to find any reason for her to be kicked off her internship. The light grows dimmer outside as the train slithers down into the underbelly of New London. Old London, once known simply as London, still stands under its descendant.

Cathedrals have become black markets, apartment blocks once so lush with green ivy are overrun by tree roots from New London. The only people who don't leave Old London are the ones who can't. The train slows to a stop at a station and some of the car's occupances slink out.

A bright thread of cerulean ribbon snaking from a young woman's hair draws Lily's attention. Her dress is a beautiful slash of blues and greens and purples, with rhinestones and studs on the shoulders.

Lily nearly loses her footing on the train in her haste to exit and catch up to the girl.

"Miss! I love your dress! Can we talk for a moment? Please!"

"I'm not joining your model agent you filthy bitch! I don't want your drugs or your money."

Lily catches her arm and the woman spins around, using the change in motion to catch Lily by surprise and twist her arm behind her back.

"Ow! I'm not from a modeling agency, I'm a student at Kuhler's Institute and I'm studying fashion. I just wanted to ask about your dress."

"Eh? You're on the wrong side of the Line then."

"I'm on my way home, I was working in the Fashion District and they let me go. Your dress–"

"I made it, what's it to you?"

"Have you ever thought about fashion?"

Lily's mind fills with the multicolor hues of a magnetic storm during her childhood, aboard the one and only shuttle she'd ever been on shortly after her first year at school. The colors had danced and arced across the ozone as they'd left the atmosphere and Lily had watched on in wonder.

"Fashion's for the frivolous, I can't afford to daydream I've got mouths to feed."

"You could be famous."

By now the woman has released her and Lily trails behind her deeper into Old London, past shuffling vendors in makeshift stalls down a crumbling cobbled road into an alley. The woman's home is a converted convenience store, with boarded up windows and a few glass doored coolers against the far wall.

A mattress piled with old pillows sits in a corner behind empty metal shelving displays being used as partitions. A small baby toddles up to her, followed by a scraggly dog and a man with a bionic leg.

"I don't want to be famous, girl. What you see may not be perfect, but I am happy with it."

"But you have a mind for fashion, for colors and patterns and textures. Doesn't that mean something to you?"

"I was a kuhlwitch a long time ago, on scholarship. I left because I wanted more from life than a few shoddy fashion awards and a handful of magazine mentions."

The woman hoists the little boy into the air and he shrieks, the man pats the dog's head and his gaze slides to Lily. He curls a hand protectively around the woman's waist, using his other hand to pull his son closer.

"Get out while you can, kuhlwitch. New London might be all glittering highrises and dazzling color, but it's got no heart."

"Fashion is all I've got."

"Find something else, then. New London spits you out faster than you can get your bearings. You need a heart, something to root yourself to."

"Like this moldy hole in the wall?"

"Sure. It looks different for everyone. Now get lost."

Lily slinks from the convenience store with the woman watching her every move, mulling over her words as she traces her way back to the station.

By the time she boards the train, she's made up her mind. Merula looks up when she walks through the apartment door. The surprise on her roommate's face is evident as Lily rarely walks if she can teleport, and she's supposed to still be at her internship.

"You're back early."

"I have a statement to make."

"Oh? Did one of the greasekissers at Lark finally send you out of orbit?"

"They fired me, and I intend to make them regret it."

"Can I help?"

"Of course."

Two weeks later Lily boards the train with a riot of colored fabric stuffed into her carry-on. Somehow a runway model becomes stalled in the dressing room and Merula struts out onto the runway of Nebulae in her place. A black bodice streaked with blue and green and purple dye give the impression of a magnetic storm, silver studs blooming on the shoulders in the layout of Old London.

Merula reaches up and unclips the colorful train, revealing a deep black skirt with a shorter train underneath. The lights cut and electric letters glow to life on the black train. REMEMBER YOUR ROOTS is lettered in shades of green and blue light reactive dye. When the lights come up again Merula stands under a large paper mache oak tree, its roots tangled around a red callbox from Old London.

Lily beams from behind the curtain on the runway as the crowd murmurs. She's found her purpose, in reminding the residents of New London who are watching where they come from. Maybe if people look back to their roots they'll find things they'd long forgotten. They'll find one another.

Word Count: 2006

Prompt 1, Part 2