Auden knows that he has lost again, even before he opens his eyes and sees the sunlight streaming through his apartment's ill-fitting blinds.
It has taunted him daily for months, now, no matter what buttons he presses on the terminals around town. It's there, jabbing spears into his brain whenever he's hungover; it's there, shining on injuries from hard-fought bouts. It's there today, reminding him that, in a city where, supposedly, everyone has a voice, his is never heard.
He gets up, grumbling and shielding his eyes, desperate for a change in the weather, wondering what's so great about sunshine.
* * *
Red looks out her window at the blue sky overhead, but she doesn't feel much like smiling.
She's given her fans what they want, happily; but want about what she wants? She doesn't necessarily mind writing and singing pleasant songs, but life is more than flowers and sunshine, especially in Cloudbank, where the city's ideals depend on compliance, on the many becoming one, in thought and in action.
She sighs, knowing she can't yet say what she feels, for nobody's ready to listen. She can only wait for a change in the weather, and wonder what's so great about sunshine.