There was a caterpillar named Buggy, content with life on the ground. 

One day, he started to build a cocoon. 

It was scary and uncomfortable, but he embraced the change.

After weeks of transformation, he emerged as a beautiful butterfly.

Buggy realized change, though daunting, often leads to beautiful outcomes.  

As the cab pulled up to the apartment studio, Harper put away his phone and thanked the man. The man cleared his throat as Harper opened the door. With an awkward smile, Harper pulled out a five dollar bill from his wallet, handing it over to the taxi driver. The man nodded and wished him a good day. Harper sighed, grabbed his bags and got out of the car, carefully closing the door behind him. Almost immediately, the cab driver sped away, leaving Harper alone in a concrete jungle.

“Okay… Here goes nothing." Harper whispered to himself, pulling on his guitar bag and wheeling his suitcase over to the building. 

As the door opened, he was hit with a gust of hot air and dust. Coughing, he waved his hand in front of his face and opened his eyes to see a small middle-aged man yelling on the phone and pacing the lobby. The man looked at him and Harper tensed, gave a forced smile and quickly found a place to stand in the awkwardly small lobby. There were chairs, but when Harper looked at them he could’ve sworn he saw something small jump. Once standing out of the way of the door, he checked his map to make sure this was the place he had rented out. An exasperated sigh broke through Harper’s taut lips and he set his head against the wall, closing his eyes. He never thought in a million years, his life would get this lonely after his high school graduation. It was the first time he had been truly on his own. He was devastated. 

Opening his glistening eyes, Harper sucked in his bottom lip and looked at his phone. Hesitantly, he opened Messenger and looked at his father’s chat. Just a few weeks prior, Harper’s ex-boyfriend "outed" him to his strict father. Every night after was an argument with his dad, and finally the last straw broke and Harper decided to leave. Either way, Harper did not see the difference. The last thing said in the chat was from his father, “I hope you get better.” Harper quietly thought to himself at the text through vision blurred with tears. He was not sick. His father was the one who needed help understanding this fact. 

“Alright, kid. What’s your name?” The yelling man spoke in a tart voice, making Harper flinch. Quickly, Harper blinked the tears out of his eyes.

“Um, Harper Landon.” 

It tore his heart to hear his own voice. His normal confidence was gone. He hadn’t spoken much since he left home. He hadn’t even felt much since he left.

“Right,” the man drew out the “i” for a couple seconds. 

He grabbed a clipboard, nodded then said, “Landon. Apartment 5, 3rd floor. Here’s the key.”

Harper took the key with a quiet “thank you” and started up the stairs. They were creaky, making him a little uneasy as he went up the steps. Finally, he reached the 3rd floor and turned towards his door, unlocked and pushed it open, rolling his suitcase inside. There was a thick smell of smoke from the last occupant, which made Harper scrunch up his face. He set his suitcase in the room and shut the door behind him, looking around.

“Okay…” Harper whispered to himself after deeming the place at least somewhat clean. He set down his guitar on a broken coffee table. With a deep sigh, Harper pushed his hands up from his eyebrows, clearing his hairline from sweat and pushed his hair out of his face. Hands still in his hair, Harper looked at the yellowed walls of the kitchen.

“Okay…” He repeated to himself, a little more shaky than before. His lips shook, eyes filling with tears.

"I'm going to be okay."