JULIA

There was a knock on Julia's door. "Nooo," she moaned into her pillow. She pulled it over her ears and wrapped her sheets more tightly around her. Knock, knock.

She lifted her head lazily and frowned at the door. It's Saturday, she thought. No classes today. Why would someone be up this early?

The knocking grew louder and more persistent. "Are you awake, partner?" a boy's muffled voice came through the door.

Nathan? What did he want?

Julia rose out of her bed and walked unsteadily towards the door, yawning. She opened the door to find Nathan, wide awake, beaming from ear to ear.

"Guess what time it is?" he asked.

"Time to go back to sleep?" Julia muttered.

"Nope. It's time to make some music."

Julia shook her head. "Maybe in a few hours, Nathan." She started to close the door.

"Oh come on," Nathan said. "It's already seven."

Julia rolled her eyes. "Already seven?" she asked, incredulous. "Normal people can usually sleep in until at least nine on the weekend."

"Well then, I guess I'm not normal," Nathan replied, shrugging. "And now you won't be either."

"Why do you even want to do this now? We have all day," Julia tried to reason, growing frustrated.

A dreamy look came into his eyes. "The morning," he said, "is the best time to be inspired."

"Do you know what inspires me?" Julia grumbled.

Nathan shook his head.

"Sleep. Now let me do it." With that final remark, she turned around and flopped onto her bed.

Nathan leaned in the door frame, looking just about immovable as possible. "I'm not leaving until you say yes," he said stubbornly.

Julia groaned. "Go away."

Nathan sat on the floor and crossed his arms. "Nope."

Julia let out an angry sigh of submission. She propped her head up on her elbow and faced Nathan with an irritated frown. "Fine..."

Nathan jumped up, grinning.

"...But let me get ready first," Julia finished impatiently.

Nathan nodded and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

When he was gone, Julia dragged herself out of bed again. Soon she was more awake, but just as unwilling to start her day. She pulled through the tangles in her hair, brushed her teeth, and changed out of her pajamas. When she was satisfied, she left.

Nathan greeted her with an enormous smile, and the two of them headed to the pavilion. The morning sun was peeking over the tops of the trees, spreading a golden yellow light over everything the sunlight touched. The glass pavilion was practically glowing, and the piano sat there, grand as ever, ready to be played.

Julia allowed herself a little smile, but she still wasn't a morning person.

She spent most of the time standing by the piano as Nathan played around with different melodies. She didn't do much, besides point out if something didn't sound right. Nathan always took her advice and made a few tweaks here and there, crossing out and re-writing notes.

By the time the tune had a basic shape, Nathan started separating the piano accompaniment from what Julia was going to have to sing. Julia thought it wasn't too difficult, although she didn't do much besides stand and listen and watch. Her mind and eyes wandered, studying every inch of the room and wondering when Nathan was going to finish. She took in her surroundings with all her senses—the pavilion smelled like flowers, the walls and floors glowed with sunlight, the air was cool, and Julia could hear the piano softly playing, the birds chirping, the trees rustling, and....

She could also hear something else—a muffled thud, thump, thud. She looked all around to find where it was coming from. It wasn't in the walls. It didn't come through the door or from outside. Julia looked to her feet. Thud, thump, thud. Then it stopped. It was coming from the floor.

Julia was so caught up in the strange noise that she hadn't noticed that Nathan had stopped playing. He jumped up from the piano bench, walked over to her, and waved the music in the air. "I think we've got it!" he said, smiling. "Now all we have to do is practice."

Julia hadn't taken her attention off the floor. Nathan skipped over and looked down at the spot she was staring at. "What are you looking at?" he asked.

Julia only whispered, "Did you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

Julia glanced at the floor. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head. She must have been hearing things. She had thought she had seen a stone disappear over the pond and now she thought she was hearing things under the floorboards. She shook her head again and smiled. "It's nothing," she said. "Let's go get breakfast."

They left the pavilion behind, empty and perfectly silent.

STEWART

Stewart had followed James again. He had left the dining room early as usual. He tailed him more silently and from farther back, so he wouldn't be noticed. Sure enough, James climbed the stairs to the top floor again. He clearly wasn't thinking of stopping. I have to tell someone.

Stewart wondered how he would be able to reach J. Q. King. He had stopped a maid he had met in the hallway, hoping it was Miss Lynn, and tried signing a message to her. She only shook her head and walked away.

He had tried the same thing four other times. Stewart didn't even know if he was asking different maids, or the same one each time. He only knew that this plan wasn't going to work.

So instead he wrote what he had been trying to say on a piece of paper and held it up to every maid he met. It said: "I want to meet with J. Q. King. Can you help me?"

None of them said yes. The only one who responded had taken a pencil and written, "Sorry, he isn't available," on Stewart's paper.

Stewart was now walking dejectedly back to his room. If I had actually talked to them, maybe they would have listened.

He sat in his room for a long time. He didn't know what to do. All his efforts had only led to disappointment and more questions. Where is J. Q. King? Why doesn't he want to be seen? He seemed pretty friendly when we first met him.

Stewart's thoughts were shattered by a loud noise from across the hall. It was coming from the room of the only person besides himself who was not out in another part of the mansion: Star. She was blasting music.  He didn't know how she could stand to listen to something so loud.

Turn that music down! he thought angrily to himself. The music continued. She couldn't read his mind. Nobody could. He would have to confront her himself.

Stewart stepped out of his room, crossed the hall, and knocked on her door. No reply. He knocked again, much more loudly. Still no one came, and the music was still going.

He took a breath and opened the door.

The first thought that came to his mind was pink. Star had brought her own furnishings from home, which were all different shades of pink. She had her own pink pillows, bedsheets, carpets—everything. She had placed sparkling glitter-covered stars all over her walls and ceilings, and pictures of some tiny dog on her dresser and nightstand. She was lying on her bed, legs dangling off the side, with her phone a few inches above her face. She had her eyes closed and was obviously not paying any attention to anything besides the music.

After adjusting to the bright colors, Stewart cleared his throat. Even if I can't talk, I can at least do that.

Star didn't move.

He cleared his throat again, but he knew it wouldn't work. After the second attempt to get her attention, Stewart knocked loudly on the wall.

If Star acknowledged his presence, it was only for a split second. Her eyes seemed to shift, aware that someone was there, but her smile only grew wider and she didn't take her gaze off the phone again.

She's ignoring me on purpose! Stewart realized. Then he thought sullenly to himself, Maybe if I could talk, she would actually listen.

He cleared his throat again and stood in the doorway for another minute and then left, defeated. She wasn't going to turn off her music. No one listened to him. No one ever paid any attention.

Because I don't talk.

Back in his room, Stewart sat on his bed, deep in thought. Nobody listens to me. Not James, not the maids, not Star. J. Q. King doesn't even want to see me. Nobody ever gives me any consideration because I chose not to speak.

Stewart frowned. Maybe I'm sick of it. I thought that life would be easier for me if I didn't have to talk to anyone. But it's not. My opinion never matters. I'm always the one being left out. Maybe I'm sick of being ignored. Maybe it's time for me to have a voice again.

Stewart was shaking. The thought of speaking after years of avoiding it was terrifying. It would be different.

But I want to.

Stewart took a slow breath. He was going to try. He shaped the words and cleared his throat. I'll do it. I'll do it right now, today. All I have to do is open my mouth and....

"...."

Nothing came out.

Stewart's fingers flew to his throat. It wasn't vibrating. His mouth was moving, but nothing came out. He tried again.

"...."

Stewart's heart sank. No way.

He couldn't talk. He really couldn't talk.