Astra Lysandra smiled triumphantly. Fifth-degree. Business and marketing. Completed. A year and a half. She scowled and threw the graduation scroll onto her penthouse suite's accumulating academic achievements. Why have a childhood when you can master academia in your 20s?

Tonight was celebratory. Astra, the rebellious vision, was venting tonight. Her wild cyan hair, fluff and curls, bounced with each stride. The blue leather outfit shouted "don't mess." The leather top beneath a crop top jacket with bold, enigmatic motifs was barely covered. Her long legs were shown off in tight denim shorts with two belts and blue leather boots with heels that marched fiercely on the polished floor.

Under her apartment's bright lighting, her silver necklaces and bangles sparkled. In the darkness, her porcelain complexion, a striking reminder of her Luminary background, seemed to gleam. Her bright violet eyes, normally full of mischief, showed a hint of displeasure as she adjusted her large red rectangular glasses. The stupid devices were necessary for her poor farsightedness, yet they reminded her of her flaws.

Her vivid, elaborate butterfly tattoos on her shoulders showed her transient whimsy. As she impatiently straightened the graduation scroll stack, a Luminary blue feather caressed her cheek. Tonight was about friends, partying, and drowning out her emptiness despite her success.

A glimmer in the doorway caught her eye as she reached for her clutch. Her breath jerked. Not possible. Not after 10 years. The glowing halo above her head pulsed a lethal red, representing her building hatred, as she growled. Astra sneered, "Well, well, well," "Look who chose to grace me with their presence, 'dad'."