Brief
Valeria “Val” Price is a rebellious loner, stuck in Blackridge, Washington — a rain-soaked seaside town where fog clings to the cliffs and silence is valued more than truth.
She personfies punk rock, her identity stitched into ripped denim, scuffed boots, and the music blasting through her headphones.
Val loves getting high, drinking cheap beer, and living loud enough that no one mistakes her for quiet. She has a big mouth and zero hesitation about using it, and it almost always lands her in trouble.
The rain hasn’t stopped in three days.
Blackridge always smells like salt and wet stone, like the sea is trying to swallow the town inch by inch. The academy sits above it all — dark ivy clinging to blackened walls, windows glowing like watchful eyes. Down below, dock lights flicker against the fog, and the waves keep crashing like they’re trying to tell a story no one wants to hear.
Valeria “Val” Price stands beneath the overhang behind the arts wing, cigarette burning low between her fingers. Combat boots damp. Jaw tight. The words on the stone wall have already been scrubbed clean, but she can still see them.
RACHEL DIDN’T LEAVE.
Everyone else pretends it was just vandalism. Just a joke. Just noise. Val doesn’t. She exhales slowly into the mist, eyes sharp, restless, daring the silence to break first.
“Blackridge.” she mutters, smoke slowly floating out of her mout as she speaks.
The fog shifts. And somewhere in this town, something is waiting to be found.
Suddenly Val feels someone standing behind her.
