Episode 16: Shadows in the Spotlight

It’s a Saturday, which means chaos exists somewhere in the city—but not here.

Not in the manor. Not in my world.

I sit at my desk, surrounded by glowing screens and sketchpads. Frozen lemonade within reach. Soda cans scattered like tiny monuments of personal triumph.

Terry’s latest fashion line has a new logo draft. My task? Make it functional, coherent, and visually striking. Nothing more. Nothing less. She doesn’t need me to design the clothes. Just the digital backbone.

I sigh, adjusting my surgical mask.

The fonts are messy. Overstated. Garish.

“…People are idiots,” I mutter.

A pause. Then I begin.

Vector layers. Color corrections. Shape refinements. Tiny adjustments to kerning that nobody will notice, but will make the difference between looking amateurish and professional.

It is tedious. It is perfect.

A notification pops up: a message from Lena.

Lena: Logo draft looks great. You’re a lifesaver as always.
Mira: Seriously, we don’t know how we survive without you.

I blink. Then stare at the screen.

“…They gush like idiots,” I mutter.

Lena: Also—Terry told everyone at the baby shower how Beckett helped behind the scenes for the last collection. Everyone was impressed.

I stare at the ceiling. The twins are perched nearby, drawing quietly. Persephone shows me her notebook: a sketch of me lurking in shadows, a ninja mask drawn over my face. Hades adds meticulous shading and tiny chains on my black cargo pants.

“Cute,” I say flatly.

“They miss you!” Persephone whispers.

“I’m right here,” I reply.

Hades frowns. “You’re too far in the shadows. Sit closer.”

I comply—slightly.

Across the city, my cousins are holding a quiet, low-key wedding. No photographers hounding me. No flashy banners. Just subtle congratulations. I do attend the wedding itself—thankfully—but my designs are present. The logo I worked on adorns the invitations, the small thank-you cards, and even the menu headers. My work is everywhere, but no one sees me.

Perfect.

Coffee later. Frozen lemonade in hand. Mira and Lena meet me at a quiet café. They talk animatedly about the wedding, the baby shower i attend as mentioned of course, and all the ways my graphic design quietly saved the day.

Mira: You were amazing! Everyone loved it!
Lena: People were gushing—“Beckett’s a genius,” “so mysterious,” “what a ninja”…

I sip my soda. Neutral. Disinterested.

“…They’re fucking idiots.”

Mira: You’re also cute. People were literally talking about your mysterious vibe.

I blink at her.

“…I lurked in the shadows. That’s literally my job even before i took on this job ever since i left that goddamn shithole of a library.”

Lena: And you do it perfectly. Even Terry said so.

I mutter something incomprehensible and take another sip finishing up my drink and excusing myself as it was now time for me to head home and of course waved me off and reminded me im always welcome to their door.

Later, home. The twins are excited to show me their sketches—tiny ninja Beckett in various heroic poses, shadowed, mask intact, cloak flowing.

“You’re officially the favorite uncle,” Persephone declares.

“Indeed,” Hades adds. “No one else can match the shadow factor.”

I allow myself the faintest smile.

Diana enters the room, tilting her head.

“Lunch break?” she asks.

“I don’t require breaks since im in my bedroom much of the day,” I reply.

“You’re contractually obligated,” she murmurs.

Persephone and Hades laugh quietly.

“You need sunlight, after all since you’re the favortie uncle, uncle Beckett!” Persephone chimes sarcastically.

I groan.

“…Fine,” I concede, masking my dread.

Outside, the sunlight is faint—golden, forgiving. A brief taste of warmth. Not too bright. Not too hot. Just enough for the contract.

I remain mostly in shadows.

Terry appears from nowhere—magnetic, exuberant.

“Beckett!” she exclaims, hugging me fiercely. “Still perfect, still mysterious, still adorable! You must come to the next baby shower!”

“I do not wish to attend as im going to be busy again,” I say.

“Oh, you’ll be there,” Terry insists, dragging me forward by the arm. “Quietly. Just… lurk and look cute.”

I glance at the twins. They nod approvingly.

“…Fine,” I whisper.

Friends of my family—Terry’s close associates, Mira and Lena’s friends outside of Diana as she kept to herself like me—peek at me from across the garden during the quiet event.

“Is that… Beckett?” one whispers.

“Yes,” the other replies, eyes wide. “So mysterious… so quiet… like a ninja.”

I remain in the shadows. Perfect. Observed. Appreciated. Invisible.

By evening, I am exhausted in a gentle way. The world continues its noise and stupidity. The socialites, the fashion chaos, the ineptitude—all of it thankfully never did i went to those types of events at all ever no and never in my life either.

And yet—

In the shadows, in my masks, in my perfectly controlled workspace, surrounded by frozen lemonade, soda, sketches, and my family…

I am loved.

Always included.

Always needed.

Always… home.

Sunlight fades. Shadows return.

I sigh. Adjust my mask. Sip my drink.

Everything is exactly as it should be.

Even if humans are still idiots