Come A Head

Chapter 1

Stella Ellsworth had always believed that one day, she will be strong enough to carry the family business. Until then, she just have to endure every passing day she had to spend juggling between school and work responsibilities.

Now summer's here and school isn't much of a pain in the ass. Problems would only be coming from the shop's growing reputation around the town.

The shop had been busy lately since it's holiday season. Tourists from all over the world compete for a space to find the so-called—or reviewed—artistic things on sale. Once she went through a website promoting that the painting they had bought from Ellsworth's Gallery had granted them every wishes they'd laid upon it.

Sometimes people believe so much they actually make imaginary things come true. But Stella knew what is fake and what is not. Some of the paintings are done by her younger sister Marion, who claimed to have dreamt of them before she danced her brush on the empty canvas. Some other by her mother and her grandmother. The art blood just seems to run in the family, although Stella isn't exactly gifted.

Nobody in the Ellsworth family has psychic power. Or history of psychics. They were just ordinary merchants who resell things in higher prices. There isn't any book written about them. Their tombstones don't have strangers visiting them.

Surely, the buyers had just believed too much that they mistook luck as magic, coincidences and all that. Maybe prayers really do work. Also, what's meant to be will be.

Not that Stella grew up not knowing what magic is. In fact, she believed magic more than the god she prayed to every weekend in the glorious temple down the street. It's always easier to cope with sadness or stress with magic. Magic is magical.

Every once in a while her parents would visit this shop she's managing. They're usually taking care of the business on the northern side of the state. Marion is still living with them. Since Stella is now in college, she can help them manage this branch shop. This month, they're going east to open a new branch so they won't stop by to check on her.

Last summer, her parents agreed to share the place with a coffee shop, making the queue longer than ever. Stella had to memorize the price tags to prevent people from leaving without buying anything because the cashier can't handle a large crowd. She was glad she could remember every single one of them. Once in a while she would have to double check. Then again, her family owns the place. She grew up with those tags.

One of these days she wished holiday feels like holiday without smiling here and there, selling people this and that. She was sick of the smell of coffee and lavender-scented candles. She is sick of summer break.

It's funny how by the end of July, things began moving too quickly. She started being scared that the line is getting longer and the shop is running out of stock. It's strange to notice that the clock ticking felt like music to her ears. The coffee and candle don't bother her too much. It just feels like everything is just... passing by.

Then athlete scholarship student Ezra Ratzenberger moved into town and spent too much time at her shop. There surely isn't any decent reason for him to be there all the time. She knew he despises caffeine for some reason and there's nothing more he's allergic to than art. Also aromatherapy candles, but she can relate to that just fine.

The boy's presence is a strange addition to the shop full of artworks. Not to mention his geometric tattoos that clearly has no meaning. He looked like a misshapen statue that was meant to be imperfect. Maybe that deformation is where the art perspective lies on.