Novel & Cerita Balcony Conversations

They were eager, they were intensely communicative, and they were, understandably, terrified. I stood on the raised lip of the Voyeur’s Balcony, a crystal glass of sparkling water in my hand, looking down at the thriving, golden-lit expanse of the main floor. The ambient hum of conversation was louder than it used to be, a direct result of the continuous, verbal check-ins that the new charter mandated.

~ BALCONY ~ After June had left them, she went to retouch her makeup in the bathroom and adjust her dress properly, she was about to go back to join them in the dining when she overheard them talking about her and how it was weird that Octavia would be friends with her. She decided to go to the balcony on the top floor to enjoy the view, She hadn't been to the balcony before but Octavia had told her about how beautiful the view was up there, it was a good thing she had a good memory when it came to details so she was able to remember the secret passage to the balcony.

Amen. There's a balcony at the west side of the mansion. From here, you can enjoy the night view of the garden. Mingyu and I are sitting across from each other with a table in between. There's also a huge window glass that's separating from the the people inside the house. It's sound proof, thought I bet Wonwoo has ways to listen on our conversation which didn't start yet. I asked the maid for calming teas and now that we finished drinking from our own cups, it's the time to talk.

It's sweet and sour, a very refreshing and appetizing combination. … The clients ate happily. Kenneth and Emily exchanged a glance and smiled at each other, convinced that this business deal was already in the bag. The other colleagues also felt success was imminent and began raising their glasses to toast the two of them. The atmosphere was lively and harmonious. Just then, one of the clients' wives, Aini Baccus, asked, "Why hasn't Ms. Hardings arrived yet?" Kenneth's smile froze for a moment before he forced one back onto his face.

Those last cries didn't come from them. There was a sudden thump from the divider wall between their balcony and the next one. Quiet panting could be heard. Ben and Trish arched their necks to look at the wall. The balconies were separated by ornate wood lattice work sandwiching a translucent pane of glass. A small table with a flower box stood against this. Ben's eyebrows went up as he caught sight of a shock of white hair showing between the flowers in the box. He gently pulled from Trish and looked around for his board shorts. Unable to find them he helped Trish up. She adjusted her bikini top and looked for her bottoms.

The conversations happened across two weeks of late March and early April, in the particular way that the most important conversations happened, one finding its moment, then another, until something had been said that needed saying and the said thing sat in the room with the texture of something real rather than deferred. The first was with Lyra.

I spent a very depressing day in the office and finally left for home. When I got to the manor, I was so tired that I wasn’t even hungry. I just wanted to cuddle up in bed and sleep. After I finished showering and changing into my nightwear, I decided to get a glass of water from downstairs. I was walking down the stairs when I heard noises. I paused on the stairs and heard voices like two people were talking. The voices were coming from the outside balcony. I kept my steps light as I walked till I could see whoever was talking. It was Cassian and Celeste.

Not because I had a specific plan for the balcony, I needed air and I needed a moment outside the specific temperature of the room to recalibrate without every adjustment being visible to the people I did not want to be visible to. The balcony was the only place at this party where I could stand with my back to the glass and think without being watched. I opened the balcony door. And stopped. Someone was already there. Daisy Brown was standing at the balcony railing with her back to the door and her phone to her ear and she was laughing. Not the social laugh, the real one, unguarded, the kind that came from somewhere internal rather than somewhere managed. I had been watching her all evening