hi! :) this is kinda just an extra, as i spent 2-3 on this novel, just developing the storyline and now.. it's over shit let's all cringe at my writing from 2 years ago....

THE HISTORY OF TRANSPARENCY

Transparency, much like myself, has been through an array of changes. It started in 2013, when I was around fourteen as the story of a young adolescent having to deal with the loss of his girlfriend. It was extremely overdramatic and badly written with many plot holes and such. It was also written as dialogue, as most of my writing was back then. I started out writing dialogues, creating scenarios in my head, and then reading them. It was a fun hobby I had on the side, until I started to actually write, and become interested in writing. I discovered I was pretty adequate at writing in seventh grade, I was around twelve, when I was the only one in my grade to get full marks on a narrative essay, I was praised for it back then, and though I've probably lost it, along with most of my early works, it'll always be the reason I really started writing. Nonetheless, Transparency had a morbid storyline, and was enough to make me cry all the time – mostly since I was particularly morbid myself back then – the first actual draft was a monologue said by Harry – back then, Styles, and only nineteen – his character was very sad, and going through a tough time, dealing with issues most teenagers do – like eating disorders, self-harm etc – eventually I stopped writing it, because it was too morbid, and I decided Harry needed more developing. In the original first draft, the only opposing character Harry had was his best friend, Liam, who was constantly saving Harry from hurling himself off a balcony. Eventually in the end, I think, Harry finally accepts the fact that he has lost his girlfriend – a very early version of Rose Darlings in this version, known as Savannah Skies – and moves on with life.

(scene starts off where Harry is lying on his bed, with a knife pushed against his arm)

Harry: Two years ago, I found out that you never really know what you have until you lose it all. Two years ago, I was a happy go lucky, quite antisocial, final year high school graduate, with no worries in the world. Two years ago, I met her. The girl who toned my opacity up. A year and a half ago, she left. Left forever. A year and a half ago, I lost myself. i lost everything. My scholarship, my friends, but mostly, her. All I have left now, are the scars on my arms and my extra small skinny jeans that are too big for my skinny figure. As my blood trickles down my arm, my vision fades and the world turns black, as I go completely... transparent.

(this is the original first, ever thing I wrote for Transparency, unedited and in all it's cringeworthy glory.. 07 April 2013)

Harry: She didn't what, Liam? WHAT? (Harry's on the verge of tears)

Liam: She didn't make it, Harry. She's dead, gone.

Harry: What? (a tear rolls down Harry's face)

Liam: She bled to death. You almost died too, but I saved your life by donating two pints of blood.

Harry: But I'm AB negative.

Liam: So am I.

Harry: (sincere) Liam.

Liam: Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to school.

2 weeks later

Harry: (monologue) It's been two weeks since her death, and it's all I can think about. The memory keeps tearing through my mind. I haven't eaten in a week, yet my appetite has completely vanished. Just like my will to live. I have no will to open my eyes and stare at the ceiling for much longer. No will to pick my music book up and express my feelings in a deep and depressing song. No will to pull my deadweight body up and face the stupid academy. No will to face Rift Astrid and the rest of his posse. No will to breathe anymore. But yet it feels like something or someone is keeping me here for a purpose. The scars on my wrist burn, yet it's a pleasuring, relieving pain. The only good pain in my screwed up life at the moment.

(the door flings open as Liam charges inside)

Liam: Get up. (no reply.) You're going back to school.

Harry: Why should I?

Liam: Why do you keep trying if you're killing yourself anyway? (sarcastic, but then sincere) I know it's hard, but you have to move on.

Harry: Tell me, Liam. Do you have both your parents left?

Liam: Yeah, but I don't see..

Harry: Do I have both my parents left?

Liam: I don't know?!

Harry: No, Liam. I don't. I don't have anything left. Savannah was all I had left. Try putting yourself in my shoes, and you'll see, life's not so bloody easy when you've got nothing. Try facing Rift Astrid stuffing you in a locker every day. That's the reason I stopped living, that's the reason my will to eat has vanished, that's the reason.

Liam: I.. (dumbfounded)

-end-

Liam: Are you sure you want to do this?

Harry: Completely.

Liam: You can just go home.

Harry: I'm fine. (he walks away.)

(one of the earliest dialogues I could find, I wrote it somewhere in 2013, and it shows Liam's character, and how he desperately wants to help Harry, but Harry's too stubborn to accept help. Harry was a very selfish character in the earlier drafts of Transparency, because he didn't know any better, eventually as I grew and he grew too, he started considering people around him. There's another version where I rewrote the same dialogue, but a little more 'angsty' if I might, it's rather similar, there's a bit more tension between Liam and Harry, and finally Harry gives in to trying again.)

Eventually I kept thinking of the characters, mostly Harry, thinking of his family and the people around him – at this point, Liam had completely vanished as his best friend and was recycled into a different character – I watched a lot of television, and came across a show called Perception, which handled about a Paranoid Schizophrenic Neuro-Psychiatrist name Daniel Pierce, who struggles finding love and dealing with his hallucinations. The subject of schizophrenia immediately prickled my interest, and at first I only gave the disorder to Harry because I though it was cool, and gave him dimension. But as I did more and more research about schizophrenia and all that's relevant in that field, I realized it fit Harry, but only in a certain sense. From the beginning Harry was considered a musical prodigy, very fluent in piano, but not anything else – as I recall. His hallucination, Emma, mentioned briefly in the novel, had always tried to help him in trying to find himself throughout the development, though at one point, I mention they were siblings, and that Harry was in love with her – and at this point, I was 14, I had absolutely no idea what incest was, and I figured it was too dark at one point and rewrote that part of his life.

SCENE ONE

"Oh hi there. Guess its me again. You know, that weird 'ol crazy person called Harry? Yeah, that one. I guess this is another part of this weird thing you call an autobiography, or some chiz like that? Whatever, I blab too much."

HARRY:

Oh look, my pinboard, with all my bills, and overdue stuff. I could just burn you down to the ground. Mehhhhh.

EMERALD:

Mehhh

HARRY:

*scream* Damn you Emerald..

EMERALD:

Love you too sweetcheeks.

HARRY:

Why does that make me think of buttcheeks?

(he sighs)

EMERALD:

Why the sigh?

HARRY:

I hate my life..

EMERALD:

Don't say that.

HARRY:

I have reason!

EMERALD:

What reason could you possibly have?

(She says this in a sarcastic, know it all tone.)

HARRY:

I work at a hotel! As a bloody chambermaid!

(He sighs again)

EMERALD:

Then why don't you study hard to get your teaching degree? If you start now, maybe you'll be teaching by age 26.

(she says this like she knows Harry better than he knows himself.)

HARRY:

It's not that easy..

EMERALD:

And why is that?

(Yet again, Emerald has a very sarcastic tone with Harry, she's tired of hearing the same excuse over and over again.)

HARRY:

Because life's just not that simple!

EMERALD:

Well, maybe if you try...

(She's trying to motivate Harry here.)

HARRY:

I've been trying all my life, and look where its gotten me. I work 72 hours a week, at minimum wage, cleaning up after a bunch of rich people, who spend money faster than you can say "OH MIO GIO!"

EMERALD:

Don't go all Italian on me..

(she says this softly)

HARRY:

Maybe you should've learnt it whilst you were still alive.

THERE'S A LONG SILENCE

HARRY:

That was a little

EMERALD:

It's alright. I know your sensitive about your..

HARRY:

I should get ready for..

EMERALD:

Yeah..

(THEIR FINISHING EACHOTHER'S SENTENCES HERE)

THERE'S ANOTHER SHORT SILENCE AS YOU SEE A TEAR ESCAPING DOWN HARRY'S EYE.

HARRY:

I miss you.

EMERALD:

I miss you too.

(her tone is sincere)

HARRY:

Why'd you have to go?

(His voice is on the verge of tears)

EMERALD:

It wasn't my decision.

HARRY:

Wasn't your fault either.

EMERALD:

You can't blame it on dad. He wasn't exactly sober.

(THERE'S REGRET IN HER VOICE)

HARRY:

Like always.

EMERALD:

But you were given a 2nd chance!

HARRY:

Sometimes I wish I wasn't.

EMERALD:

Still the same old insecure, suicidal 19 year old I see?

HARRY:

Not my fault I was bullied into a bunch of disorders in high school.

EMERALD:

Which reminds me..

HARRY:

I can't eat Emerald. You of all people should know that.

EMERALD:

Try.

HARRY:

What's the use, I'll just puke it up later.

EMERALD:

One bite, Harold.

HARRY:

(he sighs)

Fine. One bite.

(HARRY WALKS OVER TO THE KITCHEN AND COMES BACK WITH A GRANOLA BAR)

EMERALD:

A granola bar. Really?

HARRY:

You didn't say 'what' I had to eat.

EMERALD:

CURSES.

(Emerald was the very early version of Emma Ash, mentioned in the story as being Harry's main hallucination. She was originally meant to be Harry's sister but as I realized that was a bit disgusting, I had to rethink the story. Originally this was written during the time where Harry was a chambermaid of sorts, and still in development. I also point out in this that Harry was struggling with his weight, and it only reflects again how I was at that time of my life, it was still in 2013 and I was struggling to accept myself as a person, it reflected a lot in my writing and my characters)

It was then when I started thinking of a story again. This time it was about a medical student, wanting to become a Neurologist, with a mental disability. It played off in Venice, Italy first but later I thought it was a little odd having to travel by boat and not by foot so the location was switched to Milan. Harry was employed at a prestigious hotel in Milan with a terrible boss and a couple of eccentric characters, which gave the story a sense of humour. Liam's character was recycled to make a character, Connor Hayes, who was a German receptionist and doorman. He was sort of like Harry's mentor from time to time, he was the one who taught Harry to speak Italian and German, Harry had learned French by himself and what not. Another character, Sigourney Kai also had a big impact on the story. She was Harry's best friend/love interest. Sigourney was loud and outspoken and drop-dead gorgeous. Though Harry wasn't quite interested, per say, he was always rejecting her. In an alternate version of the story, Harry and Sigourney end up together, but in the main one Harry and Savannah ended up with each other and Sigourney with Harry's brother Drew – a very early version of Insley. As the story developed, I developed Harry's character more. In the beginning, Drew was Harry's adopted brother, and he was nothing like Insley. Drew was a private investigator with a lot of guts, he was bright, but he wasn't a genius, his character then developed into Cyan, which was another version of Insley, Cyan was more of a nerdy type, it was here where Insley started shining through, Cyan I believe was a computer programmer with a photographic memory. Evidently early 2014, Insley Hatch was born, a genius, with a photographic memory and a high IQ whose dream was to design something that would change the world. Unfortunately I lost the drafts of where Insley was still Drew and still a PI when I was cleaning out my room.

This story starts in the early stages of fall 2007. In a small place called Cheshire. The Cheshire County Institute for the mentally unstable, where a fifteen-year-old Harry Holt has been checked into for a case of mental fragmentation. And all the way from Coventry, a young, sixteen-year-old Insley is coming in for a visit. The car pulled into the eerie institute. It was silent; none of the Hatch's said a word. Mr. James Hatch approached the door and twisted the knob, whilst Mrs. Theresa Hatch gave young Insley a reassuring smile. The family strolled to reception. The receptionist was half asleep. "Excuse me?" Mr. Hatch called. Her eyes went open. A bored expression was glued to her face.

"Welcome to the Cheshire Institute for the mentally unstable, how may I help you?" she replied sarcastically.

"We're here to see a patient." Mr. Hatch said.

"Patient name and age please?" she asked. Insley cringed.

"Harold Holt, age 15." He muttered.

There was a short silence, as the receptionist blankly scrolled with her mouse.

"He's not ready for people." She said.

"What?" Insley replied, shocked.

"Why not?" Mr. Hatch asked.

"He's very unstable." She replied, emotionless.

"When will I be able to see him again?" Insley asked, determined.

"By the looks of his mental state, not very soon." She replied, this time slower, it actually sounded like she cared. But she didn't.

"But," Insley turned to his father, "dad, I have to see him." He pleaded.

"You heard the nice woman, Insley. Let's go home." His mother smiled.

But Insley refused to accept the fact of truth. He wasn't just going to let it go. He took a deep breath and gazed towards the door, biting down on his bottom lip in doubt. Then he dashed for it. Mrs. Hatch gasped. The receptionist flew out of her seat.

"Stop! You can't do this, any stimulating colors could trigger suicide!" she yelled, after Insley's disappearing figure. It was no use; he was long gone.

"Security!" she called.

"Insley Ace Hatch!" Mr. Hatch called and dashed after Insley.

He wouldn't stop at anything. All he wanted was 2 minutes, just to see. And he'd be okay.

Harry heard noises, his eyes went open and he peered through a small gap. Nothing. He fell back on the white bed, in the white room. He was pale. The only color in the room was his green eyes, with red scratches all over them, like a real lunatic. He wasn't crazy. He was just depressed and angry. He didn't know why he was in there. They locked him up in a white room. With nothing. He refused to eat. He refused to sleep. He refused to take medicine. He just wanted to die. To feel no more.

He pounded his fists against the glass. Nothing. He was so frustrated.

Insley raced into the room.

Harry and he were separated by glass. It was all too much for Insley as a tear rolled down his cheek. He stepped closer, and knocked on the glass.

This alerted Harry. He stood up from the floor. He stepped closer, he saw Insley's faded figure through the glass. Tears streamed down both their faces.

"I'll always be there for you." Insley said weakly.

Harry smiled.

Then there were footsteps.

"No! No! Let me go!" Insley pleaded as they dragged him away.

They took everything from Harry. He hated them.

Harry felt the tears piercing and yet again, bashed his fists against the glass. He collapsed.

Crying.

Crying for all that was left.

And then he muttered, "help me."

So soft, not even he himself could hear it.

(From the first actual draft of Transparency, it exploits the more crazy side to Harry. Back then, Harry wasn't viewed as a stable character, he wavered off the road and was a lot more reckless and selfish than he is now.)

When I seriously started writing in late 2014, the story was well developed, as well as the characters. Harry was a lot more stable, and more selfless, as well as Insley, who now had a full character. In the early stages of development, Insley was half a one dimensional character, he didn't have a backstory like Harry nor any information I could provide about him, but as I changed, so did he. In an alternate version, Harry didn't get PS (paranoid schizophrenia) Insley – or rather Cyan as he was named when I wrote it – did.

"So this might seem like another teenage drama. Its really not any teenage drama if you ask me. Its quite eerie and depressing. My name is Cyan Hatch-Styles. I have 2 last names. Yes. Why? Because when I was 2 years old, I was separated from my twin brother Harry. I didn't know him all that well, for my parents shipped him off to Cheshire and dragged me all the way to Coventry. Then stuffed me in an orphanage and left me to rot whilst my mum drank herself dead and my father suffered a long painful death of 3rd stage bone marrow cancer. As for my brother. He vanished out of my life.. completely. I was only 5 years old at the time of this. At age 6 I was adopted by a nice loving family. The Hatch's. Mum was amazing. My dad loved me. My life was perfect. I even had a little brother.

Cyan: And that's why I'm afraid to fall in love again.

Harry: Life's all about chances. Its time for you to move on.

Cyan: How?

Harry: That's for you to figure out.

Cyan: Thanks.

Harry: Why're you thanking me?

Cyan: For listening.. I guess.

Harry: I'm your brother. Its my job.

Cyan: No, actually your job is to teach higher grade music to a bunch of teenagers.

Harry: *laughs* Yeah. It is.

Cyan: Which reminds me..

Harry: Your late for work?

Cyan: Steve Jobs calls.

Harry: Enjoy designing apps all day.

Cyan: *laughs* suuure.

(Extract from 'Mirrored', which was what I called to be the sequel to Transparency back in 2013, so much cringe. Even in the early drafts of Transparency a father figure was missing in the twins' life, except in this for Insley, Harry had never had a father figure, nor did I for that matter. Also his mother is exploited to be a bad woman, but as I started becoming closer to my mother, Harry and Insley's mother also made a grand appearance in their lives, being the reason Harry's alright today.)

"Sir, I did it!" Insley rushed into the room, filled with 12th graders.

He felt completely out of place, him, the little ninth grader. But he was too ecstatic to care.

"Did what Insley boy, I'm teaching." The teacher replied.

"I memorized the entire book!" he held up the 12th grade science book.

"Mr. Hatch."

"What?" this caught the teachers attention.

"The entire thing?" he stuttered.

Insley nodded.

He groaned.

"Where's the universal mute?" he said, feeling around for the mute button. Must've left the T.V on.

"Mr. Hatch. It is time to leave for Italy."

"Ah, damn. I forgot." Insley's eyes went open.

"Get me some water and an aspirin. My head feels like its about to explode." Insley moaned.

"Yes, Mr. Hatch." Jenson nodded.

"And Jenson." Insley added

"Yes sir?" he asked

"Please, stop calling me Mr. Hatch, I'm Insley, not 'Mr. Hatch'." Insley smiled

"Alright, Insley." Jenson struggled to say.

"And Jenson, before you go. Where's my tuxedo?" Insley asked, stretching his arms out.

"Your tuxedo? Must still be at the drycleaners.." Jenson said in reply.

"What? Jenson, do you want me to miss my flight?" Insley raised his voice

"No, sir.. I just thought Sebastian..." Jenson stuttered.

"Dismissed. If you want something done, you obviously have to do it yourself." Insley moaned.

He picked up his phone from the charger and put it on. He punched in the pin code and unlocked the SIM card.

He dialed in the drycleaner's number.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this the drycleaner's on West Brook avenue?" he asked

"Yes, it is." A female voice answered.

"It's Insley Hatch. I dropped a tuxedo off yesterday. Do you think you'll be able to deliver it to my house?" he ased

"Oh, Mr. Hatch, I'm sorry, but we cannot deliver, our delivery boy is sick." She answered.

"Alright then, I'll send someone to fetch it. Will that be alright?" he asked

"Of course, that would be superb." She replied.

"Thank you." He hung up.

"SEBASTIAN!" Insley called.

"Yes, sir." He rushed into the room

"Alert Ricardo I'm leaving. Get my bags into the car, and get me a latté please, and thank you." Insley said, as he pulled on a clean shirt.

"Sir, you can't be flying with sweat pants and a t-shirt..." Sebastian answered.

"Well. Someone forgot to pick up my tuxedo and someone is not getting paid, Sebastian, make it happen. Meet me at the helicopter pad in 20." Insley grabbed his laptop, cellphone and earphones and stuffed them into a slingbag.

"Oh, and alert the Morning Star staff I'll be arriving in 10 hours, I need security." Insley rushed out of the room.

He rushed through the house, out into the driveway.

He pulled open the door of his car.

"Drive." He demanded.

"Make it snappy, we have 10 minutes." Insley said.

The driver nodded.

(Extract from the same first attempt draft, giving a slight backstory of Insley back then. It was all written in third person to give it a perceptive aspect, but eventually I decided it would be best to keep Insley's character a bit of a mystery, and only a select few knows what actually happened to him. In the extract, Insley is a lot more cold than he is portrayed in Transparency, it was meant to show that he was different from Harry in many ways.)

The first final draft of Transparency was in 2014 when I really started writing, I wrote about fourteen chapters and then hit a wall. Most of the chapters were written by hand, and most are half lost now.

At the age of twenty-six, I figured out that the purpose of life wasn't merely living, but loving as well. You can't live a life of sheer hatred and expect to experience love from anyone. My whole life had been a series of unfortunate events and I wanted a fresh start. So at twenty-four, I decided to start fresh, new country, new job, new everything really. I'm Harry Holt, and this is how it happened.

(From the prologue of the first final, Harry was severely different in this, in a sense more charming and a lot more hopelessly in love. Rose's demise wasn't quite planned out I was going to have her die from a heart attack, but it was a massive plot hole, when I finally realized it wasn't going to work out, I set out to write the final final finally final draft which is the one I stuck with for now)