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mara-lune · 3 years ago

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Ch. 1 Welcome to Lake City

Smith walked through the crowded, noisy streets of Lake City, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her oversized gray hoodie. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun, out of her face, as it always was. Despite the smoggy, gray weather, she wore her sunglasses and a pair of large headphones. This, plus her big, black backpack was typically her outfit of choice. She didn’t like making eye contact, or even worse, having people talk to her. Most people, anyway.

It was the end of the work day, and people buzzed past her, in their own worlds that barely extended beyond their own faces. Most were eager to get home from work, others were eager to get to their vices. A wretched few of them were looking for someone to chat up, usually with a sales pitch. The downtown plaza Smith waded through was what she considered “old-modern”. Stores, businesses, and restaurants lined the street level floors of the old buildings the city was founded on. There was always something under construction, but not always in a progressive way. The trend for the past twenty years or so was to make anything new as bright and sleek as possible, giving the urban city the ‘modern’ part of the ‘old-modern’ style, even though that modern feel was already a couple of decades old.

Lake City was also noisy. And not just the noise of traffic, construction, and people. Everywhere you looked was filled with lights, advertisements, and sometimes the bizarre art installation. The city had pumped some money into trying to make the walking streets more cultured and friendly, without really doing much else to help the area. This meant that you would often see panhandlers getting ignored underneath a giant neon light installation instructing passersby to love one another.

Smith slowed down and took a long gaze up at a two story billboard screen as it switched to an ad for SugarBaby Jean Co. The model in the ad smiled brightly behind a pair of tinted glasses, and a cheesy slogan declared this “The Summer for Sugar, Baby”, even though it was already fall. After a few seconds, the ad switched to an animated image of a fantasy city in a torrential storm, promoting the latest blockbuster movie, and Smith picked up her pace again. She turned the corner and finally made her way to the only place in town she actually liked, a tea shop called Lake and Leaf. Inside was white, bright, and quaint, but still warm and friendly. She took off her backpack as she made her way to her regular spot - the last stool at the end of the long counter. She pulled her tablet out of her backpack, and hung her bag on the hook under the counter at her knees. She took off her sunglasses, but kept her eyes straight on her screen in front of her.

“Hey, Smith. Reading more police reports?” asked a friendly voice from behind the counter. It was Rolly, one of the shop owners, and a friend of hers from when they were kids. He was built like a grizzly with the temperament of a golden retriever, and the tea shop was his passion. “The usual?” he asked, knowing that she wouldn’t look up until she was satisfied with her scrolling. Smith nodded, almost imperceivably. He shuffled off to his tea tins that lined the wall and began making her the usual cup.

Smith scanned the headlines: robberies, shootings, muggings - the usual, daily crime in their metropolitan city. She switched her app to a map of the city and pinned the places of the crimes. She added notes from the reports - time of day, victims, weapons - anything she could. Then she started reading the local news sites. Some of the news reported on the crimes and offered vague details, of which she also noted. Nothing was too insignificant.

Smith finally set down her tablet and looked up. She glanced around the shop. It was slightly busy. Most people liked going to bars around this time, but Lake and Leaf had its usual crowd. She reached into her backpack and pulled out her wallet. She pulled out a five dollar bill, and then stashed her wallet away as she saw Rolly head toward her with a cup of tea.

“Earl gray with milk, and a scone. I thought I’d try something a little different for you this time. The tea has lavender in it.”

Smith pulled off her headphones and discreetly set the money under the saucer as she picked up the cup and took a sip. “Oh damn, that’s good.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Nah, just this. What’s new around here?”

Rolly leaned on the counter. “You’ll never guess who came in here the other day.”

“Who?”

“That model you like, Ellis Jones.”

Smith nearly spit her tea. “No fucking way! Did you talk to her? What’s she like?”

Rolly chuckled. “I didn’t see her, Nate did. He said she asked for coffee - I guess she didn’t realize we don’t serve that here.”

“So what did she do? Did she get something else?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t here!”

“Well, why didn’t you ask Nate? Is he here? Let me talk to him.”

“No, it’s his day off.”

Smith sat back in her stool, daydreaming. “Man, she’d be perfect…”

Rolly tilted his head at Smith. “Perfect for what?”

Smith sighed. “Well… I don’t know. I haven’t really told anyone yet.”

“What?”

“Nevermind, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Smith Kelley, we’ve been best friends since we were kids! We went to the prom together! We practiced kissing on each other. Tell me, girl!” Smith reached over the counter and slapped Rolly several times on the shoulder.

“Fine! You know how I like to read police reports and stuff?”

“Nooooo.”

“Shut up. Well, I was thinking. The cops around here… could maybe use my help.”

Rolly chuckled. “Okay.”

“I just keep thinking… I could do a better job.”

Rolly scoffed. “You? You’re a shrimpy little weakling who hates running.”

“Well not me-me, but I still think I could do something about it.”

“You mean you want to be a cop? I don’t know how you’re going to do that, being… well, all those things I just said.”

“I know this city inside and out. There are patterns and certain people who keep doing things and getting away with it.” She showed Rolly her tablet with the map. “See, there was a robbery six blocks from here a month ago.”

“But you’re a shrimpy…”

She swiped to another view of the map. “And then two nights later, another one a block away from that.”

“Little weakling…”

“And it’s more than just robberies. I mean, they were both robberies, but they were in and out of there so fast.”

“Who hates running…”

Smith put down her tablet and gave Rolly a look.

“I’m sorry, babe! I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be chasing bad guys. The police are decent. I mean, sure, they’re not perfect, but they’re good enough.”

“They’re not good enough when there’s still so much crime in this city!”

“But really, what were you thinking of doing? And what does Ellis Jones have to do with it?”

Smith paused for a second. “Okay, can I let you in on a little secret?”

Rolly sighed. “I don’t know. Your ideas are kind of out there. A lot of people think you’re just a conspiracy theorist.”

Smith lowered her voice and leaned in. She picked up her tablet and changed some settings on the map that showed an overlay of sewers, passages, and tunnels. “Whenever I freelance for the city government, I get a lot of access that I probably shouldn’t have. I know the city’s infrastructure - it hasn’t changed in the past ten years, and any time anyone tries to change it, it takes months, if not years of government bureaucracy to actually take effect. I know how to move around quickly, without getting caught.”

“Have you ever actually seen these tunnels and passages yourself?” Rolly asked.

“No, but I’ve seen big proposals get shot down because it’d be too expensive to build around them. And they don’t want to remove them or fill them in, because that would require a lot of inspections and restructuring. Redoing the underground infrastructure under one city block would affect, like, the next dozen around it.” She pointed to a city block on the map. “Remember when the old Elysian Hotel wanted to update and basically rebuild the whole building? Lake City put it on the ballot to make it look like they were trying their best to make it happen, but even when it passed, they decided to slap a historic landmark status on it so they wouldn’t have to bother with it.”

Rolly furrowed his eyebrows with a small realization. “Is that why they did that? It is a pretty neat, old building.”

“But have you also noticed that the tallest buildings in this city are only thirty stories?”

“Yeah, they passed laws to not build any higher than that so as to not obstruct the view.”

“The view of what?”

Rolly shrugged. “You know, the city. It’s kind of nice to look at.”

“But why not improve the city with taller, more impressive buildings?” Smith stared up at Rolly with a bit of a crazy glint in her eyes.

The two froze in an awkward standoff until Rolly finally broke the silence. “Babe, what is your point?”

“My point is that I could track the criminals. They show patterns. I’m sure some of them are even using some of these passages. Just imagine beating them at their own game. Following them, or even getting ahead of them. As, like… a superhero would.”

“A superhero!” Rolly shrieked.

“Keep your voice down, butthead!”

“A superhero!” he quietly shrieked. “Smith, you’re smart, but you’re also the clumsiest person I know. There’s no way you’d ever be able to do that, much less as a superhero.”

Smith looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Not me, but someone like Ellis Jones could. Do you see the workout routine videos she posts on her Lookit? She can move.”

“Mm-hmm, you sure do like that.”

“Shut up.” She picked up her cup and finished off the tea. The little bell above the door jungled, and they both looked over to see a couple walk in and sit down around the corner at the other end of the counter.

Rolly stood up straight. “Mkay, girl. Well, you find Ellis Jones and train her to be a superhero. Let me know how that goes.” He moved the saucer on the counter, and slid the money she placed there back to her. “You’ll need this to get your superhero project started.” He turned to the couple and made his way down the counter.

Smith placed the money back onto the saucer and set her empty cup on top. She nibbled at the scone as she opened up her tablet and buried her face in the screen again. The tea shop buzzed with light conversations, clinking dishes, and tea tins being opened and closed. Smith put her headphones back on and drowned out the world around her. She didn’t hear the shop bell jingle again, and the excitement that filled the air when Ellis Jones walked in.

The statuesque model was as exquisite as they come. She had smooth, caramel skin, and her short, fiery orange hair was perfectly coiffed. Ellis’ long, graceful figure practically floated into the shop as her delicate dress fluttered around her. A couple of teenage girls in the shop approached her and asked for a selfie, to which Ellis happily agreed. After a couple of shots with a couple of phones, the girls thanked her and excitedly went back to their table, eagerly sharing their pictures on their Lookit accounts. Ellis went to the counter and sat at the corner, directly down from a still oblivious Smith.

Rolly put on his usual, friendly customer service smile, despite the fact that in his head, he was screaming his face off. “Hi there! Welcome to Lake and Leaf. I’m Rolly. What can I get you, love?”

Ellis scanned the shelves of tea tins that lined the long, side wall. “Um, I’m not much of a tea drinker.” Down the counter, Smith absent-mindedly picked up the empty tea cup that was still in front of her. She paused when she realized there was only a small drop left, but still tipped it up as far as she could to get the last bit. Ellis pointed at her. “I’ll have that. Whatever it is, it must be good.”

Rolly winked at her. “You got it!” He turned from the model, and squealed quietly as he bounced his way back over to Smith. “Um, excuse me, dear, what was it you ordered again?” he said in a loud, obvious voice.

Smith looked up at Rolly and gave him an incredulous look. “What?”

Rolly glanced down at Ellis. “Can you tell me which tea you had?”

Smith pulled her headphones off. “What?”

Rolly sighed heavily. “Which tea was that?”

Smith glared angrily at him. “You made it!”

“But maybe you can remind me what you had. That young lady down there would like to know what tea you had.”

Smith turned her glare down the counter. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw one of the most famous faces in the country smiling at her.

“Um. The usual?”

“Oh my god, ” he muttered, rubbing his hand into his forehead. He picked up the cup and saucer. “Oh yeah, this was an earl grey with milk and lavender.” He winked at Ellis again. Ellis smiled back at them. Rolly stuffed the cash back into Smith’s hand while she was distracted. He took the empty dishes and walked to the back kitchen, still smiling. “I’ll get that for you right away!”

“Sounds great!” Ellis grinned at Smith. “He’s really sweet.”

Smith tried her best to regain her composure. “Yeah. He’s an old friend of mine.” She realized she was holding the money and put it in her pocket. “He doesn’t let me pay for anything here.”

“I actually came in here a few days ago and I tried to order coffee. The guy who was here at the time was not as sweet.”

“Yeah, that’s Nate. He’s pretty much the opposite of Rolly,” she chuckled, awkwardly. “So do you, um, come here often?” Smith winced as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

“No, this is just my second time. I kind of felt bad after that first encounter, so I thought I’d try something different this time.”

“Yeah! You should!”

Ellis laughed. “Yeah, I will.”

Smith cautiously got up out of her seat. “Do you, um, mind if I sit closer to you? Join you? Do you mind if I join you?”

Ellis gestured at the empty stool next to her. “Please.”

Smith started to move closer, but then quickly turned back and gathered her things. Her arms full, she sat down on the edge of the stool next to Ellis. “Hi. I’m Smith.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Smith.”

“No, it’s just Smith. Well, Smith Kelley.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Nice to meet you, Kelley.”

“No, Smith is my first name.”

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, it happens to me all the time.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Smith. I’m Ellis.” Ellis extended her hand and Smith shook it just a little too enthusiastically, dropping her headphones on the floor.

“Yeah, I know! You’re really cool. I mean…”

Ellis laughed. “Um, thank you.”

“Sorry,” Smith groaned. She put her tablet and sunglasses on the counter and reached down for her headphones. Her stool tipped out from behind her, and clattered loudly on the floor. “Shit, sorry. I mean, shoot. I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.”

“Sorry.” Smith scrambled under the counter in search of a hook to hang her backpack on, and took a moment to silently berate herself for her awkwardness.

Ellis leaned over and looked at Smith’s tablet on the counter. It was open to the police reports. “Are you a cop?”

Smith stood up quickly, holding her headphones and the stool that had fallen, with a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights look. “No.” Ellis looked at Smith’s reddening face. “I just like to read police reports. That’s kind of weird, sorry. A lot of people think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Really?” Smith was still awkwardly standing with her hands full, and her messy bun had become even messier.

Ellis reached for the tablet. “May I?” Smith nodded. Ellis started to scroll through the police reports, her brow furrowing. “This isn’t even half of what happens in this city.”

Smith finally put down the chair and sat down next to Ellis. “I know! The police--” she lowered her voice. “The police are basically useless.” She set her headphones on the counter and reached over and swiped the tablet to the map. “I’ve been tracking the crime in this neighborhood alone, and it’s pathetic how little actual policing goes on.”

“You’re telling me. My cousin was killed a few years ago, and the police couldn’t figure it out, so they gave up the case.”

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry.”

"They said it was a random, unprovoked attack, and he was an unfortunate casualty. They won't reopen the case, and the worst part is, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Smith hesitated as she read Ellis’ devastated face, scanning the reports.

“Um, listen,” Smith finally said, taking the tablet from Ellis. “I’m sorry that I even brought it up. You just wanted to have a nice, relaxing cup of tea, and I had to ruin your afternoon with all this talk about crime.”

“It’s okay,” Ellis said, with genuine gentleness.

“No, it’s not. I’m just Captain Bring-Down over here. I’ll let you get back to your tea,” she said, looking around for Rolly. “Which still isn’t here. Why did he even go to the back to make it? All the teas are out here.”

Just at that moment, Rolly came around from the back with a hot cup of tea with a sprig of lavender placed across the top. “Here you are! So sorry about the wait!”

Ellis smiled at Rolly. “Wow, thank you so much! It’s beautiful!”

“How come I didn’t get a flower?”

“Because I didn't want to have to go all the way upstairs to get you one,” Rolly playfully snipped back at her.

Ellis chuckled and removed the sprig from the cup and handed it to Smith. “Here you go.” Smith took the lavender and blushed. Ellis took a sip of the tea. “Hm, not bad!”

“See, who needs coffee?" Rolly beamed.

“Better than what I had last time. My assistant wanted to try this place, but I didn’t know what to get, so I just ordered the ‘Special-Tea’ that was on the menu.”

“The one that was basically all anise? Oh girl,” Rolly sucked through his teeth. “I tried that one. It was not good. My partner likes to come up with new brew combinations. Usually they're good, but that one was not. Can I get you anything else, Miss Jones?”

“No thank you, I’m fine.”

He turned to Smith. “How about you?”

Smith flushed. “No, you’ve gotten me plenty.” She looked down at the lavender in her hand. “Plenty…”

Rolly smirked. “Hm, I bet I can think of one more thing I can get you.” He turned to Ellis. “Miss Jones, my stupid friend here really likes you. Been a huge fan of yours for a long time.” Ellis chuckled and Smith turned even redder. “Of course, you are more than welcome to say ‘hell no, fuck off, creep,’ but what do you think about maybe meeting back here with Smith another time for more than just tea?”

Ellis raised her eyebrows behind her cup. “More than just tea? What else do you have back there?”

“Pastries and gayness.”

Ellis finished her tea. “Well, I’m not that big into pastries, but I like the rest of that idea.” She smiled at Smith, who had somehow gone from bright red to completely white. She turned back to Rolly and reached for her handbag. “How much do I owe you?”

“No no, let me!” Smith managed to stammer out.

“But you said you aren’t allowed to pay for anything here.”

“She’s not.” Rolly turned to Ellis. “Four eighty five, please, dear.”

Ellis reached into her handbag and pulled out her credit card. Rolly presented a card reader for her, and she settled her transaction. She turned to Smith. “I guess I’ll see you here…?”

“Tomorrow! If that’s okay with you. After work? I get off at five.” She set the lavender down on the counter and quickly gathered up her belongings and stuffed them into her backpack.

“Perfect! It was nice meeting you both.” Ellis got up from the counter and left the shop.

Rolly picked up the empty teacup from the counter. “You’re welcome,” he tossed at her over his shoulder as he headed to the back.

Smith reached deep into her backpack, pulled out a fifty dollar bill, and threw it at Rolly. She started to head out the door, but then turned back and grabbed the lavender sprig off the counter.

Smith sat on her unmade bed in her small studio apartment. She pecked away at a work project on her laptop. Normally, she would let herself get so engrossed in a project that she wouldn’t even notice the sun go down… or come up. This time, though, she eagerly watched the clock, waiting for 5:00.

The sun was starting to get low, but it was hard to tell with the usual smog that hung in the air of Lake City. The afternoon sunlight that did manage to penetrate through fell onto her bed next to her, where her tabby and white cat, Mat, lay snoozing. The sun crept along her bed until it reflected off of her laptop and into her eyes. She adjusted slightly on the bed, but couldn’t keep her attention on the computer anyway. She had spent the day working from home, as it was slightly closer to the tea shop than her current office, and she didn’t want to waste any time getting there. Of course, that also meant that all she could think about all day was five o’clock.

At 4:46, Smith got up from the bed and walked over to the mirror over her small dresser. The sprig of lavender she received the day before was taped to the mirror so it could dry out. She inspected her reflection and took the ponytail holder out of her hair. She fluffed and smoothed her hair out with her hands, and put it back up in her usual bun. She really wanted to look nice, but nothing but her typical style made her feel comfortable. The least she could do was make sure her messy bun wasn’t quite as messy. She checked her teeth, put on some deodorant, and smoothed her hair again before looking back at her computer. It was 4:47.

She flopped back down onto the bed, disturbing Matt, who let out a little ‘prrrp’.

“Sorry, Mat.” Smith leaned over and gave him a scritch and a kiss on the head. He yawned and stretched a paw out in return. She turned back to her computer and typed a few more things, unaware that she was shaking her foot like it had a flea in it. Mat stood and stretched, very much bothered by the vibrations Smith was causing, and jumped off the bed. After two more minutes dragged on, she finally shut her laptop with a deep sigh.

“You want your dinner early?” she asked Matt. “I might be out late after all.” She chuckled to herself, imagining the best case scenario of how the evening would go. Mat perked up and started rubbing along Smith’s legs at the sight of the cat food can.

Smith set Mat’s dish on the floor at his placemat and topped off his water bowl. She grabbed her gray hoodie from off the bed and put it on, and then picked up her tablet and headphones off her small kitchen table. The table had one chair at it, and was covered with junk mail, dishes, note pads, and other random odds and ends, which meant she didn’t have room for actual work there. The other chair was pulled close to her bed, where it had been serving as a makeshift table for a couple of old water glasses.

Should I take my backpack with me? She wondered to herself, as she packed up her essentials. Probably not. She reached into the backpack and pulled out her wallet, and tucked it into her hoodie pocket. She dug through her backpack again for her keys and chapstick and phone… and then put her wallet back into her backpack and slung the whole thing over her back. She slipped on her sneakers and headed out the door.

Smith hurried the five blocks from her apartment to Lake and Leaf as quickly as her little legs could take her - without running, of course. She hated that. As she stopped at a busy corner a block from her destination, she paused and admired a motorcycle parked in a lot. She had always wanted to be able to ride a motorcycle, if only she were a little taller to reach the ground. The 1200 cc sportbike was sleek, white, flashy and, in Smith’s mind, very sexy.

The traffic light changed, and Smith made her way into Lake and Leaf. As her usual habit, she started to remove her backpack once she got inside. She scanned the people seated at the counter, and started to head to her usual spot at the back of the shop, until another familiar voice caught her ear.

“No, green tea and black tea come from the same plant. They’re not different varieties. I mean, well, they are, they’re different types of tea, but it’s not like there’s a green tea plant and a black tea plant.” Nate was being his typical, know it all self. It wouldn’t be long until he would start being condescending to the poor person he was holding captive with his conversation.

“So which one is better?” Ellis asked, looking over a menu card.

Nate sighed. “Neither one is better. That’s like asking what kind of dog is better, although we all know that chihuahuas are the worst.”

“Okay, what do you recommend?”

Nate sighed again - his favorite thing to do. “I don’t know, what do you like?”

Ellis shrugged and gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I’m new to tea. But I’d like to learn.”

Smith walked up to the small table in the corner where Ellis was seated. “Black tea tends to be stronger, and sometimes bitter. It’s a pretty standard tea, like English Breakfast, or the iced tea you get at restaurants. Green tea can be kind of nutty and smooth.”

Nate’s eyes went wide as he turned to Smith. “Oh. My. God. You think you can just walk right up to Ellis Jones and Smith-splain my job to her?”

“Well, you were kind of being rude to her, and Ellis is really nice.” She sat down at the table across from Ellis and placed her backpack on the floor under her chair.

“Wooowww,” Nate taunted. “You’re just making yourself right at home. Bold.”

Smith tried her best to ignore Nate. “I’d recommend the green tea, if you want something lighter. Or if you liked the one you had yesterday, that was an Earl Gray with milk and lavender.”

Nate’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling.

“What are you going to have?” Ellis asked Smith.

“I think I’m just going to get an iced tea.”

“You want your scone?” Nate asked, anticipating Smith’s usual order.

“No, just the tea this time.”

Ellis turned to Nate. “I’ll have the same.” She held the menu card up to Nate, who plucked it from her hand and slowly spun around on his toes.

“Baaaasic.”

Smith gave Nate a glare as he left their table. Ellis gave Smith a wincing smile. “He’s… a lot.”

Smith waved her hand in apology. “Yeah, this place is always a little less busy when he’s here.”

“I definitely prefer Rolly.”

“Everyone prefers Rolly.” They both laughed. “Sorry I’m late, though. I tried to get here early.”

“Don’t apologize. I got out of a photoshoot early and there wasn’t much traffic at the time.”

“Oh, you were working. No wonder you look so nice.”

Ellis looked down at herself. She was wearing a black leather jacket and a loose, champagne pink top with two long, delicate, rose gold chains. “No, these aren't my work clothes. I changed before I came over.”

Oh, Smith thought to herself. Even when she’s in everyday wear, she still looks like a model.

“But thank you,” Ellis said. “You look nice, too.”

Smith scoffed. “Hardly. This is all I really feel comfortable in.”

“I think that’s what’s nice about it. You’re comfortable and effortless.”

Smith laughed nervously and clutched her hands together on the table in front of her. Her thumbs twitched together involuntarily, as she was so used to having something in her hands, which was usually her phone or tablet. “So what was the photoshoot for?”

Ellis pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Do you want to see? They let me take a couple photos with me after the shoot for my portfolio.” She swiped her phone on and handed it to Smith.

Smith’s eyes went wide. “Oh, yeah, that’s definitely not your work clothes.” In the photo, Ellis was crouched down and turned sideways, and wearing nothing but a pair of stiletto heels and some elaborate jewelry and makeup. “So it’s a shoe ad?”

“Perfume.”

“But… where’s the bottle? Are you even wearing the perfume?”

“That’s the industry.” She reached over and swiped to the next photo, a closer shot from the same session of her from the hips up. A pop of greens and yellows swept across her eyelids like comets across the sky, and her soft pink lips reflected a coppery shimmer. She was holding her right hand up, delicately framing her face, and her other arm crossed over her breasts. The heavy jewelry she wore dripped with emeralds and diamonds. Smith resisted the urge to keep swiping through her album, but instead stared intently at Ellis’ photo.

“Wow, those are great. You look ama-- you look great. Really cool.”

Nate came back up to the table behind Smith with their drinks on a tray. “Hm. I wouldn’t have gone with green. Clashes against your hair.”

Smith jumped and turned the phone over - a natural reflex whenever someone approached her while she was on her phone.

“You know, I had the same note for the stylist, but we had to go with what Josephina Bell wanted for her new fragrance label.” Ellis was starting to get the hang of handling Nate’s attitude.

Nate sat an iced tea down in front of Ellis. “Then maybe tone down the hair. Make it more golden than orangey.” He waved his finger around her hair. Ellis rolled her eyes up toward his hand.

“God damn it, Nate, keep your opinions to yourself,” Smith seethed.

Nate set the other tea down in front of Smith. “Anything else, honey?”

Smith was about to snap at Nate again, but Ellis interjected. “We’re fine, thank you.”

Nate gave them a sassy little wave. “Love you,” he beamed, before heading off again.

Smith took a long sip of tea as she thought of some sort of small talk to make. After what seemed like forever (but was really more like a few seconds), she finally spoke up. “Sorry, I don’t really go out that much. I don’t know what to talk about.”

Ellis laughed. “Well, you’re honest. But that’s okay. Tell me about what you do.”

“Oh, I do freelance stuff, programming, cybersecurity, data encryption, things like that. I get hired by the city a lot. It’s pretty boring stuff.”

“That doesn’t sound boring at all. That sounds impressive. You must be really smart.”

Smith shrugged. “I guess so.” She never knew how to take compliments, or even how to recognize them sometimes.

“But I’m guessing that’s not what you’re passionate about, right?” Smith thought for a moment. She wanted to tell her about her actual passion; she wanted to just blurt out that she wants to recruit a superhero, and she thinks it should be Ellis. But the idea sounded ridiculous. She couldn’t form the right words in her head to make it sound like it was, first of all, a feasible idea, and second, something that Ellis would even be on board with. They were virtual strangers at this point, and all they had in common so far was tea.

That, and their view on the police in Lake City.

“No, it’s not,” Smith said. “I like reading police reports.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Right.” Smith reached for the phone in the middle of the table, but stopped when she realized it wasn’t hers. “Oh, uh. Hang on.” She reached under her chair and grabbed her backpack. Setting the bag on her lap, she dug out her tablet and put it on the table. She opened up the police reports and scanned the day’s entries. “Here, look. A new robbery last night.” She switched to the map of the city and pinned the place of the robbery, a mom and pop restaurant. “Three nights in a row, and three robberies. They’re all along the same line, but not on the same street. They all happened around 3 am, and they were all in and out in about five minutes,” she explained, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. “And the places have nothing in common: a small restaurant, a big box chain store, and a corporate office.” She looked up at Ellis with a glint in her eyes. “Somebody is moving quickly around the city, undetected.”

Ellis drew a line with her finger along the three points. “So that means that the next place they’d hit would probably be… this hotel?”

“I don’t know. These robberies all happened late at night when the places were all closed. But hotels are usually staffed around the clock. I’d say, maybe the restaurant connected to it.”

“What could they rob from a restaurant in the middle of the night?” Ellis asked. “Most businesses deposit their cash at the end of the day.”

“They were able to take a little bit of money from the small restaurant last night, but they made off with goods from the store, and some small electronics from the corporate office. They basically just take whatever they can get their hands on in a short amount of time. And whatever they can easily carry.”

“Why, though? What would they have to gain from such small crimes?”

Smith smiled. She couldn’t believe that someone was not only listening to her crazy interests, but actually seemed to be invested as well. “I don’t know. But they’re so frequent and they follow a pattern. It has to be the same people each time, and they’re probably counting on it to pay off in the long run.”

“I can’t believe the police haven’t noticed the similarities.”

Nate came back to their table. “Oh lordy, is she going on about her crime conspiracy theories? You don’t have to get sucked into her craziness, darling.”

Ellis smiled at him. “I know, she’s completely bonkers, right?” Smith closed her apps and set down her tablet, a little dejected that she couldn’t share her excitement with her crush anymore.

“Mm-hmm. You ladies good?” he asked, placing a check down next to Smith.

“Yes, thank you.” Ellis started to reach for the check, but Smith quickly grabbed it.

“I got it.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out twelve dollars from her wallet.

“Let me guess, Rolly doesn’t let you pay, but Nate does?”

“Yes, Nate sure does,” he said, snatching the cash from Smith’s hand. He picked up their empty glasses and headed to the back.

“Well, uh, I guess we should go,” Smith hesitated, disappointed that the date was over. “Sure. I have an early morning session with my personal trainer tomorrow.”

Smith nodded, attempting to look nonchalant. “Cool. That’s cool.” She stowed her tablet into her backpack again and stood to put it on. She paused when she saw Ellis reach under her own chair and pull out a black motorcycle helmet.

“Shall we head out?” Ellis said as she stood from the table.

“Y--yeah,” Smith squeaked, still trying to retain her nonchalance.

The two left the tea shop in the same direction.

“You know that I don’t actually think you’re bonkers, right?”

Smith gazed down at her feet as they walked along, side by side. “It’s nice to hear you say that.” They walked together a little further in silence.

“This is me,” Ellis said, and they stopped at the lot next to the red sportbike Smith had admired earlier. The sun had sunk low, and the streetlamps had turned on against the dusky sky. The light right above Ellis’ bike highlighted the glittery paint job, making it sparkle like fresh snow.. She set her helmet on the seat and zipped up her jacket, transforming her cool elegance into what almost looked like a mysterious… superhero.

“I had a nice time. Thanks for indulging me, Ellis.” Smith had a hard time looking Ellis in the eye, so she just admired her motorcycle.

“I did too,” Ellis smiled back at her.

“Well… drive safe.” It was the only thing Smith could think to say.

Ellis mounted the motorcycle and put on her helmet. “Thanks, I will. Good night.” She closed the visor and started the engine. Smith gave a small wave as she stood and watched Ellis pull out of the lot and speed off down the street.

“Oh damn!” she exclaimed aloud. I didn’t think to get her number. She pulled out her phone and opened up her Lookit app. She typed in Ellis’ name in the search and started scrolling through her photos and videos. Probably for the best. Would she even want me bothering her?

Smith slowly started to shuffle back to her apartment, still scrolling through Ellis’ pictures. Her thumb hovered over the ‘add friend’ button, as she nervously contemplated the idea of reaching out to the famous model that she happened to have a short date with.

Suddenly, two men jumped out from between a couple of parked cars. One of them punched her in the back of the head, knocking her to her hands and knees. Her phone flew out of her hand and disappeared somewhere in the dark street. “Just leave it!” one of the men said. They started kicking her in the ribs. Smith fought for some air to enter her lungs so she could scream out, but all she could manage were some hoarse gasps. One of the men started to pull her backpack off of her. Instinctively, she wrapped the strap around her hand and grabbed onto it for dear life. The only thing she could think to do was scream “No!” Smith curled into a tight ball on her left side around her backpack, as the one man kept trying to pry it away from her and the other one had gotten onto the ground and was punching her anywhere he could.

Smith opened her eyes as she heard a loud engine revving, and caught a glimpse of a white rocket hurtling toward them. The men also saw it, and took off. The rocket screamed past Smith and barreled toward the men. The rider leaned hard, making sparks fly along the pavement as the sparkling sportbike fell and slid toward Smith’s attackers. The rider had managed to let go of the bike before it hit the ground, and tucked into a tight roll. The motorcycle hit one of the men hard in the leg, and he let out a yell as he fell to the ground, pinned under the bike. The other man kept running. The rider got up and sprinted toward the man trapped under the motorcycle. He struggled to get out from under it, but the rider put her foot down on the wheel, holding him in place.

Ellis glared down at him through her helmet. To him, the dark, mysterious figure looked like a spectre in the night. The man trembled. “Pl--please! Don’t hurt me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!”

Ellis pressed down on the wheel again, and the man screamed out in pain. “You’re pathetic.” She let the bike go. He whimpered as he struggled to wriggle out from under the wheel. “Get the fuck out of here.” The man managed to get himself free and limped off as fast as he could. Ellis watched as he slowly vanished into the darkness.

After he was gone, Ellis turned and ran toward Smith. Smith groaned in pain as she struggled to sit herself upright.

“Don’t move.” Ellis knelt down beside her and took off her helmet. She helped Smith lie back down on her back, and looked her over. Smith had a large bruise on her right cheekbone, a bloody lip, and scrapes all over. Her clothes were dirty and torn from being kicked and knocked onto the ground. “Where does it hurt?”

Smith groaned again as she tried to gesture to her ribs, but her right arm was just as bad.

Ellis unzipped her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. “I’ll call for an ambulance.”

As she was about to dial the phone, Smith reached up with her left hand and pulled Ellis down and kissed her, grateful to her savior. And she felt Ellis kiss her back. At that moment, Smith thought that maybe her plan wasn’t so crazy after all.

#original story #superhero movies #superhero #origin story #lgbtq

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tagsecretsanta · 7 years ago

Text

From wonderavian

to @marsmckie

I do not own this piece of art/fiction. @wonderavian is the original creator and has agreed to this being posted on this blog for Secret Santa 2017.

Of Bad Designs and Holiday Gifts

Christmas Morning. Everyone – and yes, that includes John – was gathered around the Christmas Tree to unwrap Christmas presents.

This year, John was the last to open his stash of gifts. He sat cross-legged on the floor, and gave the thumbs up to say, ‘I’m ready.’

The first one, from Alan, who demanded that John open his first, was a pack of space-themed playing cards, with pictures Alan himself took from post-rescue missions and pictures sent from John’s old NASA buddies. As John flipped through them he realized he recognized some of the missions. A rush of fond sentiment filled him when he reached the last one, a selfie that Alan had asked to take with him on Thunderbird 5 the day Alan was allowed to take monitor duty with John.

John reached over to ruffle Alan’s hair.

“Thank you, Alan. I love it.”

Alan blushed.

“Aw, it was nothing,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. He quietly busied himself in playing with the new code game John had got him.

Next, from Scott, who handed over a well-wrapped present. Trust Scott to wrap his gifts up so tight it takes almost a minute and a razor to get the gift wrap off.

In the end, Scott had given John a set of guns – Han Solo’s blaster pistol and Spock’s phaser.

Grinning mulishly, John aimed the phaser at Scott and fired. Scott jerked up, pretending to be shot, and fell sideways off his chair.

“Nice, Scott. Thank you,” John smirked playfully.

“You’re welcome,” Scott said from the floor.

Virgil calmly handed his present over, which was nicely wrapped up in design paper that he likely made himself. Inside was a star wheel notebook for John to map out constellations and take notes while stargazing.

John gave Virgil an appreciative smile; the gift was not only aesthetically pleasing and thoughtful, but useful. John may love Thunderbird 5’s data recording functions, but he had a thing for star-mapping by hand.

Virgil winked at him and sat back on his chair.

Kayo gave him a set of novels John had been interested in reading.

Brains gave him a pair of gloves with special magnets set in the fingertips he made himself.

Grandma plonked a handknitted beanie the colour of Thunderbird 5 on his head when he wasn’t not looking.

MAX glided in with two packages in his hands, one from the Creighton Ward Estate and one from the International Space Station.

Lady Penelope had sent John yet more books, probably after catching reading in his little alcove in Thunderbird 5.

Captain Ridley O’Bannon had sent John a miniature version of the ISS with a card that said, ‘I still haven’t forgotten how you saved us. Hopefully that will be the last time we meet under such dire circumstances. Thank you and Merry Christmas – From Ridley and the ISS crew’.

John grinned at the message, shaking his head fondly and slightly exasperatedly at the memories it brought up.

John gently put Ridley’s gift down in his large pile of presents and turned to the last person to present him with a gift with trepidation.

Gordon had been suspiciously quiet during the gift giving, which was very uncharacteristic of him. The family joker was looking at John with something akin to anxiety mixed with poorly disguised impatience on his face. His hands, tightly clasped together only added to his nervous stature.

John dared to raise an eyebrow.

Gordon hastened to hand over his gift.

John carefully took the lumpy parcel from Gordon. It was light in his hands. Unwrapping it slowly, the hastily wrapped present revealed – a tee shirt.

John frowned.

“Uh, Gordon? What is this?” John lifted the shirt up with a questioning look.

“Look at the design.”

John did so and blanched.

‘MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMAL’

“You… you got me…” John said faintly.

“John? What does it say?” Virgil asked, concerned.

John silently turned the shirt around to show his family.

No-one said anything. Alan and Brains looked a little shocked. Kayo, Virgil and Grandma shook their heads. A muscle on Scott’s forehead twitched.

Gordon started to laugh.

John continued to sit there, staring in horror at the hideous, brightly coloured shirt.

Gordon laughed until his face was red and there were tears in his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” John said bluntly.

Gordon fell off his chair.

“Are you going to put it on, John?” Grandma finally asked.

A moment passed where John seemed to argue silently with himself. Then he seemed to shrug, and proceeded to slowly put the shirt on, all the while looking slightly mortified.

“Well?” Kayo asked, smirking.

“It actually fits,” John commented, tugging at it with a curious expression.

Gordon looked endlessly relieved.

Scott, meanwhile, looked like he was about to have a conniption. Whether one of rage or hysterics, it couldn’t be said.

“Well,” Grandma said, standing up with a flourish. “Why don’t we all pack up this mess and have some of my Christmas cooking? I made cookies!”

The rest of the Tracy Island inhabitants looked at each other, smiled painfully, and each bid a hasty retreat.

After more games and lunch, which John had been forced to wear the shirt under Grandma’s watchful eye, John made up and excuse to go to his room – something about fixing his telescope after Alan got his grubby teenager fingerprints on it (“Hey!”) and locked the door and stay there, hiding away from curious stares and Gordon’s irritating cackling.

Once he was in the safety of his room, John took the shirt and just looked at it. It was definitely of good quality and it fit him nicely, the material even felt nice and silky. It was the slogan that put him off.

‘MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMAL’

John stared at it hopelessly.

This slogan wasn’t something he’d say. The shirt wasn’t something he’d usually wear. It was more suited for Gordon himself and maybe Scott would wear it. But John? No. John wearing something as vulgar and as off-putting as this was unheard of.

John was uniform. John was polite. John was so much a stick-to-the-rules kind of guy Gordon sometimes said he had a stick up his ass.

Whether it was a late gift of not, it was certainly done on purpose. And it certainly wasn’t like it was up to the calibre of gifts they usually gave each other, especially the gift John had gotten Gordon this year (a better, upgraded diving suit John had worked on when he was off-shift for six months).

Screw Christmas.

John was more than a little annoyed.

Taking off the shirt and laying it on his barely used dresser, John left the privacy of his room and sneaked over to Alan’s, where he was probably still playing with the code game.

Knocking on the door, John heard Alan gasp quietly before a quick clicking noise was heard. The door opened only slightly, so John could only see one bright blue eye peering out at him in alarm.

“John? What do you want?”

John blinked.

“What are you doing? What was all that about,” John inquired, naturally concerned.

The door opened more so that John could see Alan’s entire face. John shot a look at the computer, but the screen was off. However, Alan’s headphones were lying on the desk.

“I was talking to my friends,” Alan said.

“But you don’t have any friends,” John blurted out before he could stop himself.

Alan’s excited expression instantly shut down.

“Thanks, John,” he said flatly. “What do you want?”

John floundered, flustered.

“I’m sorry, that was stupid of me,” John said in a rush, wincing when Alan muttered angrily, “Damn right it was.”

“I need your help.”

Alan raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

“I need to get back at Gordon, and you’re the only one who won’t tell,” John looked at Alan imploringly.

Alan nodded, lips pursed.

“Well, you’re right there. Except for Kayo maybe. And I AM the best person on this island for ‘getting back’ at people, second again only to Kayo,” Alan said in agreement.

John foolishly allowed himself to feel hope.

“So will you help me?”

Alan pretended to think about it.

“No,” he said, and shut the door in John’s face.

John went to Kayo next.

She took one look at his sad expression, then pushed him in the direction of Gordon’s room.

“Alan told me what happened. Just go talk to Gordon,” she said with a hint of annoyance in her tone.

Scott listened quietly as John explained the situation, face blank save for the occasional downward twitching of the corners of his mouth.

Eventually, Scott just sighed and said, “Look, as much as I hate to admit it, I shouldn’t really be helping you with this. For all we know, Gordon was trying to be genuine with what he got you. You know how he is. Either way, you got yourself into this mess and I have complete confidence that you’ll be able to get yourself out.”

Brains was locked away in his lab. John wouldn’t be expecting any help from him.

John went into the kitchen to get a drink.

Grandma saw him and offered him some eggnog.

John quietly excused himself, saying he had duties to get back to soon, and he couldn’t afford to indulge in such luxuries now.

Grandma smiled sadly at him.

John wished he hadn’t been the cause of such an expression.

And then Grandma asked why he wasn’t wearing Gordon’s shirt, and John remembered his mission.

He barely needed to say anything when Grandma huffed at him, and told him to go see Virgil.

Virgil listened intently to what John had to say. He didn’t interrupt at any point, just let John get it all out. Again. But somehow talking to Virgil made a weight lift from John’s chest.

“I just wish I could understand why he gave me the shirt, Virgil. I mean, as a prank or some kind of joke, but now? At Christmas time? Doesn’t it seem a little rich? Can’t Gordon ever be serious for once? I don’t understand him Virgil, I really don’t.”

Virgil nodded.

“Do you think that is what it really is? A joke?” he asked calmly. “Because I don’t think he meant it maliciously.”

John made a noncommittal noise.

“If it’s a joke, then it’s a bad one. You don’t think this is to get back at me for making him do monitor duty with Alan and EOS when I was at that party with Lady Penelope? I did tell him I didn’t expect EOS to act so childishly. And I did tell him afterwards he did a good job regardless.”

Virgil nodded, then shook his head.

“I get that, but I think you’re missing the point. If that had anything to do with the shirt, then I doubt it would be for that. You know Gordon likes Penelope.”

John blinked.

“Yeah, I do.”

Virgil nodded, continued, “But I don’t think he gave you the shirt because he’s mad with you. Even if he was, he’s not as cruel to do something like that on purpose…”

“Or without an ulterior motive,” John finished for him, his eyes widening in realization.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, questioning. John grinned.

“Thank you Virgil, you’ve been a great help,” John said as ran out the door to his bedroom.

“You’re welcome?” Virgil said to the closing door.

Shaking his head in fond exasperation, Virgil shut the swaying door gently and turned back to his sketchbook.

“Little brothers,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he reached for a pen.

Dear Brains…

John quietly knocked on Alan’s door and waited tentatively for an answer. When none came, he called out softly, “Alan? It’s me. I’m sorry. I want to talk to you.”

Seconds passed.

John held his breath. After ten seconds he made to turn away.

The creaking of the door opening made him turn back, not daring to allow himself to feel hopeful this time.

Alan’s hurt eyes gazed up at him.

“What do you want,” he said flatly.

“I’m sorry, Alan. What I said was very rude and I wanted to apologize. May I come in?”

Blue eyes stared into light green ones.

“Okay,” he said, and stepped aside to let John in.

Once inside, John nervously rubbed his hands together.

“Look. I’m sorry about what I said. It wasn’t nice and was just plain rude. I’d do anything to take it back.”

Alan scrutinized John, then shrugged and nodded.

“Its okay. I get where you’re coming from,” Alan sighed as he sank into his desk chair. “Its not like I get off the island much anyway.”

John winced at that and sat down on Alan’s bed, facing his brother.

“You know you could just ask.”

Alan made a face.

“I have. Its just never been a good enough time or reason or I get called away or…”

Alan rubbed his face. John silently observed that his baby brother looked more tired than usual. Worn. Resigned.

“Anyway. You said something about getting back at Gordon?”

John let a breath, hung his head.

“I’ve been throwing a hissy fit.”

“Yeah, you kind of have.”

John looked up at Alan.

“I mean, can’t say I blame you, but you haven’t exactly been very mature about this.”

John laughed.

“Someone needs to tell Gordon that.”

Alan smiled.

“So, what do you have in mind?”

In answer, John stood up and walked to the door. He turned to look at Alan.

“I’m going to go see him now. Are you coming?”

“One second.”

Alan turned in his chair and typed in a message explaining what was happening as fast as he could. Then he logged out of discord, shut off his computer and grinned, showing his teeth, and raced to follow John out.

John had to ask.

“So… was those your friends?”

Alan rolled his eyes.

“Yes, John, my friends. You remember Brandon and Conrad right?”

Conrad, John could remember. But Brandon? As in Brandon Berrenger, the kid who drove Scott up the wall?

“Huh,” John said, and led the way out.

John trudged up to Gordon’s room with an air of resigned acceptance. By now he had truly calmed down and was willing to talk it out with his joker of a brother.

Beside him, Alan was tapping his foot on the ground with nervous energy.

John rapped his knuckles on the door, and a voice from inside said, “Come in.”

“Hey Gordon.”

Gordon swung around in his chair, dropping his guitar onto a bean bag.

“Johnny! What a surprise! So, did you like my present in the end?”

John took a deep breath.

“It was… interesting. I can safely say I wasn’t expecting it.”

Gordon clapped his hands together.

“Well that’s good! I trust you’ll put it in your supply bag for when you return to space?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” John muttered. “Look, Gordon, why give me that shirt anyway?”

“Because it’s funny.”

John took a deep breath.

“Right. So, its not because you were hiding something else?”

Gordon looked caught. Alan stepped out from behind John and attempted to lock eyes with him.

“You can let the cat out of the bag now, Gordon.”

Gordon stood up, let out a melodramatic sigh, and rummaged under his bed for something.

Stepping over multiple bundles of clothes, books and models that littered the floor, Gordon deposited a carboard box in John’s hands.

John raised an eyebrow.

“Okay…?” he started to clumsily open the box, balancing it on his knee.

A sudden scuffling noise and a startled mewl came from inside.

John froze.

Gordon gave him a significant look.

“Open it carefully.”

John stared.

Alan’s eyes widened.

John set the box down on the ground. Tentatively, he opened the top of the box.

John clapped a hand to his mouth.

“John? Are you alright? Is it…?” Alan peeked around, trying to see.

John slowly and gently lifted the tiniest kitten either of the two astronauts had ever seen. The tiny fluffy creature had extremely fluffy orange fur and bright green and blue eyes that bore a striking resemblance to John’s own eyes.

Gordon coughed, shuffling his feet, hands in his pockets.

“I would have given you to him earlier, but I wasn’t sure he would be able to handle such a crowd so early. He’s very shy. And you needn’t worry, I had him tested and everything, and he won’t bite you,” Gordon let out in a rush.

Alan looked closely at his fellow astronaut.

“John, are you… crying?”

John lifted the kitten up to eye level and stared into eyes the same colour as his own. John’s eyes may have been watery, but his face was blank.

Thoughts of the kitten being trodden on in the busy house, of John saying, “It can’t stay here,” and “It can’t live on Thunderbird 5,” disappeared when John whispered, “Nice to meet you… Apollo.”

Gordon and Alan shared a look and grinned.

Everything was going to be okay.

#Thunderbirds are go #Tag Team Secret Santa #Secret Santa 2017 #fanfic #all the bros

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dat-town · 8 years ago

Text

Dressed like a daydream

Characters: Hoseok & OC

Setting: Royalty au, Cinderella au

Genre: adventure, fluff, romance, humour

Words: 10354

Prompt: Cinderella did not come to the party to enjoy it, but is instead an assassin tasked to kill the prince. (cr.) / I snuck into the castle to kill you, but wow you’re good with a sword, and I quite like your eyes…

Summary: When the Crown Princess' best friend agrees to go to the ball instead of her, to kill Prince Hoseok and save her from an arranged marriage, that's definitely not how she planned this.

Written for @bangtan-bookclub’s May Theme Challenge: Royalty AU

For the sake of the story let’s just accept that all the big Korean cities are autonomous kingdoms, Incheon people are famous for their blonde hair, their style is similar to Disney royalties instead of traditional Korean dressing and wars, assassins, arrange marriages are common things.

Each part's title is lyrics of Blood, sweat and tears.

For more fairytale aus, check my Once upon a fairytale masterpost.

The Royal Family of Gwangju invites you to the Annual Masquerade Ball in celebration of the Prince's birthday.

♪♫ Kill me softly

The only thing that catches my attention beyond the ink black beautiful cursive words painted on the pearl-white card is the royal seal. I guess the impression in red wax must symbolize the Sun or at least a star because the family’s slogan ‘light shines through’ is written under it but I’m not sure. Even though I had to take foreign politics classes, I liked napping more than actually paying attention to the instructor. Boring stuff like this is for the high class, the nation’s future rulers and not for somebody who enjoys sword-wielding more than diplomacy talks. Unfortunately, being the daughter of the commander-in-chief means that I live in the palace alongside the Royal family’s spoiled kids. I despise them all except Yerin, the Crown Princess of Incheon. She is the only one who doesn’t look down on me just because I’m not a noble heir and she preferred playing with me instead of her maids or cousins. That’s why it hurts seeing her getting so restless just because of a tiny piece of paper.

“I thought you liked going to balls,” I mumble baffled and cock an eyebrow at the young girl pacing up and down in her room. The ribbons of her light pink dress are swirling in the air following her and I’m slowly getting a headache from the staccato click-clacks of her heels.

“I do like them but this isn’t just any kind of ball. This is my engagement,” she cries out in frustration and now I can understand her sudden reaction caused by the envelope given to her.

“What?!”

“Yeah. I was supposed to be engaged when I turn twenty-one but at breakfast, my parents told me that they changed their mind and it would be more beneficial to seal the deal now,” Yerin sighs with the burden of two nations on her shoulders and plops down beside me on the soft mattress, burying her face in her hands.

I pat her head hesitantly because even though I feel sorry for her, I can’t really relate to this sticky situation. As a princess, she knew since birth that she would have an arranged marriage with a wealthy prince. Twenty is already way over the common age royals used to wed at. It can’t really be helped.

Yerin cries silently with shaking shoulders and I gently stroke her back to soothe her. Pathetic little hiccups escape her throat as she clutches onto my other hand in her lap. Being the Princess’ best friend means that I’m her most trusted companion, the one she tells about her biggest secrets and the one who’s there for her when she needs a shoulder to lean on.

“Please, help me!” she whispers tightening her grip on me and the words are spilling from her mouth hysterically: “Go instead of me. You’ll wear a mask, nobody will know it’s not me. Try to talk the prince out of it or… just kill him.”

The end of the sentence knocks all the air out of my lungs and I suck in a breathe shakily.

We live in a cruel world where assassins are as common as dirt and it isn’t a secret that my training involved the art of taking lives without leaving any sign behind. But I certainly didn’t expect a request like this from the Crown Princess. She has never asked anything from me before.

“Are you serious?” I gape at her astonished and pull back a little to get a closer look at her. My heart sinks at the sight of Yerin’s watery and puffy eyes. The ever so innocent princess isn’t so harmless after all. She must be really in despair.

“I can’t marry him,” she shakes her head relentlessly and realization hits me hard. My jaw drops to the floor at the thought of one certain caramel brown haired guy with the widest smile the world has seen.

“It’s because of the horse-boy?” I squeal loudly and Yerin covers my mouth with her hand to muffle my sounds. So I’m right.

“Shh...” she hisses at me with fear in her eyes and she looks around searching for eavesdropping servants in her own bedroom.

Her actions only confirm what I thought and it leaves me in shock. I have presumed for a while that the Princess is closer to the horse caretaker boy than she should be. Every time I mentioned her weekly riding lessons, her whole face lighted up and she couldn’t hide her shy smile, nor the rose pink blush on her pale cheeks. Still, I couldn’t be sure because she didn’t say anything about the time they spent together and I was in no place to pressure her. I respected her private life.

“Please…” the Princess begs with desperation clear in her eyes. I turn my head away and huff.

“I can’t stab the prince to death at his own ball.”

It’s insane. There will be probably dozens of guards everywhere around him and if I made one suspicious move, they wouldn’t hesitate to take me out. But Yerin has an acceptable solution.

“A poison is enough. We will make it look like a long-term illness’ result,” she explains keenly. Her dull eyes are filled with lively stars once again because she knows me too well: she’s aware that since I didn’t reject her request right away, she can still convince me.

“It’s not the first time you thought about it, right?” I muse out loud and for a moment, the Princess seems pretty scary. Planning somebody else’s death isn’t something one would do between two diplomatic meetings to pass time.

“Please… You’re the only one I can trust,” Yerin begs and a royalty never begs. My throat tightens as invisible claws are scratching my skin. It’s itching: the limbo between the urge to prove my loyalty and my sense of justice. But just like her, I also know that in the end I’ll say yes. I just have to be careful about it. I’m different from her, my title won’t save me if something goes wrong.

“And what if I get caught? I can’t act like you.”

I usually don’t doubt myself but it’s true: pirouette, etiquette and dance classes were never my favourites. The battle field is where I feel myself home. Though, since we signed peace with the eastern regions, I have been using my skills in internal affairs. Hunting, practicing archery and swordplay are my most loved pastime activities. Maybe that’s why Yerin thinks I’m perfectly suitable for the assassin role.

“You’ll escape unharmed. I know you can do it. You’re the best,” the Princess massages my tensed shoulders with her boosting words that always work before tournaments. However, this time it isn’t just a game for fun and pride.

“Is he really that bad? I mean killing sounds a little extreme, don’t you think?”

My best friend pursues her lips in a straight line grimacing. “We only met once but all I remember is that he found his joy in tearing at my hair and stealing my favourite toy from me.”

“You were just kids,” I try to reason and change her mind but it’s in vain.

“Yeah and my cousins were kids then too. Being young and immature is just an excuse,” Yerin replies harshly in a serious tone and I gasp in surprise. Did she really use this against me?

I know that as a subject of Incheon I have to follow the Princess’ orders but aside from that, I personally own Yerin my life. When we were children, her cousins threw me into the outside dirty fish pool. They knew well that I had no idea how to swim but they just stood there and laughed at me as I struggled to stay on the surface. Why? Simple, because they could. My word didn’t mean anything against theirs anyway. Still, they hated the fact that a nobody like me lived in the palace with them and they had to interact with me when we were tutored. They despised and detested me even more because I was better than them in practical stuff. They still do.

Yerin saved my life that day: not caring about her title, she jumped in when she saw what was going on and pulled me out. That’s how we became best friends and she always made me feel equal with her even though I could never have reached her toes because of our class difference. I’m proud to say that I know her better than her own family so if she thinks murder is the only way, I have to believe her.

“Fine. It shall be as you wish,” I bow slightly and listen to her chanting thank yous all day. I tell myself it’s okay because I only want her to be happy but the thought of murdering a prince keeps me up all night like nothing before.

♪♫ My last dance (take it away)

Yerin must be in favour of the goddess of luck because her parents allow her to choose her own escorts to the ball. Because the journey is all day long on muddy roads down south, the princess can’t travel alone with the carriage driver, she needs guards too. She decides to involve me among the escorts instead of her usual maid, so nobody will find my absence weird.

The plan is perfect: we will change clothes and put on our masks in the carriage on the way and during the ball Yerin can spend some lovey-dovey time with her horse-boy. Two birds with one stone, she says and I grimace bitterly. I’m not jealous though. They can have their romantic date all they want while I kill someone in their favour. It’s easy, I only have to drip the poison into his drink and then wait a little until the symptoms are showing. He will probably faint by the time he should declare the engagement. And even if he survives the dose because he doesn’t drink the whole glass and the pharmacists save him, the King of Incheon will no longer accept this marriage offer because of the ‘ill’ prince. It’s flawless, isn’t it? The only risky factor here is me if I get caught or mess it up. Not that I plan to.

The day of the ball arrives sooner than I expect and I sit in the royal carriage in Yerin’s glorious sky blue dress and crystals in my hair that has been ironed to match hers. The glittering butterfly-shaped mask hides most of my face and judged by a glance into the mirror, it is really hard to tell the difference since we both have the native Incheon blonde hair and fair skin. The Princess wears my black clothes, her hair tied up high in a ponytail and she keeps biting her lower lip nervously.

When the horses are slowing down, I peek out of the window in-between the silk curtains and my jaw drops. If I thought Incheon had a beautiful palace, I would have no words to describe this wonder. It’s made of marble, shines white-gold and silver like the moon on dark nights. The towers are reaching for the sky and looking at them I feel tiny as a grain of sand. It looks like it’s straight out of a fairytale. A hand on my left knee shakes me out of my awe.

“Don’t forget you have to find an excuse to leave before midnight because then everybody will take off their masks,” Yerin reminds me and shoves the little phial filled with blue substance into my hands. “He should drink all of it.”

“I know. You’ve already told me this multiple times,” I snap at her and roll my eyes. My nerves are dancing on fire, I can’t help it. I would rather fight on the battlefield than put on a show at a masquerade ball dressed as a princess.

For one last time I fix my mask and faintly marvel at the smooth lacy material of it. When the vehicle halts completely, I stand up abruptly and lift up the end of my skirt hoping that I won’t fall on my butt soon. I’m not used to these big frilled dresses but at least it’s easy to hide anything in them. I tuck the phial in one of its hidden pockets and move to step out.

“Hey...” Yerin grabs my hand hastily. I turn back to look at her masked, pretty face and her eyes swimming with worry. “Take care!”

“You know I will. Have fun! See you soon,” I reassure her with a forced but confident smile and open the door wide. The chilly wind ruffle up my hair and I get goosebumps all over my uncovered arms.

One of the escorts - dressed in Incheon’s black and gold uniform - steps in front of me. It takes me a few seconds to recognize Taehyung, the Princess’ precious horse-boy. He doesn’t look at me, just holds out his arm to help me get off the carriage. I almost laugh at him for being ridiculous because I can land on my two feet even when I jump off a running horse. But then again, I remind myself that now I’m supposed to be as elegant as Yerin, so I take his hand while I descend.

“Thank you... for doing this for us,” Taehyung whispers close to my ears, his voice dripping with gratitude and suddenly I feel sore and bitter. I let go of his hand as soon as I can to smooth the non-existing crinkles of my dress.

“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for Yerin.” I mutter back, my heart pounding in my throat. I have to pay off my debt. Even if it means a suicide mission like this to kill the prince at his own birthday ball. After all, nobody would expect an attack from a lady, right?

I raise my chin proudly high and stare stonily ahead of me. My gaze wanders at the golden carpet surrounded by royal guards and Gwangju flags until the butler steps in front of me to greet me.

“Good evening, Your Highness. I hope you had a lovely and safe journey,” the middle-aged man bows deeply and extends his right hand towards me, palms up, waiting. “May I get your invitation?”

“Oh, right...” I mumble incoherently and glance behind my back to seek help from the others. Lucky for me, Taehyung quickly comes to my rescue and places the white envelope into my hands. I force a fake smile trying not to act so rigid and suspicious while the butler takes the paper from me and his eyes scan the address.

“Ah, Princess Yerin, so wonderful to have you here,” the Gwangju subject exclaims in delight and I realize because of the masks, this is his only way to figure out who the guests are without being rude and asking directly.

“Thank you,” I nod a little, keeping the shy smile on my face and I accept his offered arm. He accompanies me towards the entrance of the magnificent castle leaving Yerin and her loverboy behind. We pass by several soldiers (I’ve counted twenty-six so far), wall-to-wall paintings, huge gilded mirrors and I have to gasp for air when we enter the ballroom. There’s glitter, gold and diamonds everywhere I look: the chandelier, the floor but even the candlestick must worth more than everything I have back at home! Despite being a fairly petite kingdom, it must be quite rich, so no wonder why Incheon wants to have its alliance. We have exceptional military force and they have good fortune.

One of the servants rings a bell and it makes the chirping and dancing guests to look up curiously, turning their heads towards me.

“Dear guests, let me introduce you Princess Yerin, the Crown Princess of Incheon,” the butler announces me and I remind myself to bob a curtsy. The sound of clapping fills the room immediately and I nervously gulp. I’m not used to being under so intense attention. By strangers no less.

“Enjoy your night!” my escort lets go of my arm and with a final bow he takes his leave.

Suddenly I’m left alone in the midst of royals and with a goal set on my mind: find the Prince and take him out. For good. I descend the marble stairs ignoring all the stares and wait for someone who’re ready to be the knight in shining armour willing to save a princess from loneliness. Yerin told me that a lady should never initiate a conversation, so I follow her advice. It doesn’t even take two whole minutes until somebody steps in front of me. Men are so predictable nowadays.

“Dear Princess, would you favour me with your first dance?” my self-proclaimed knight asks in a rough dialect while bowing and peeking at me from under his coal black fringe.

“The pleasure would be all mine,” I accept his offer with a coursey and let him take my hand as he straightens his back. He wears an extravagant-looking black-silver suit that matches his dark hair and mahogany eyes. The rest of his face is covered by a simple black mask but his smile is warm as he escorts me further into the room among the dancing couples.

“I am very pleased to finally meet you, Princess. Such a pity that our kingdoms are so far away,” the young man utters in a polite manner but I can’t help to feel a little uncomfortable not knowing who he is. My unease must be written all over my face because he quickly adds: “I’m Prince Jimin. From Busan, by the way.”

I could have guessed. It explains his strong accent.

“Ah,” I falter out with make-believe smile as I try to mask my disappointment because he’s not the one I’m searching for but I don’t give up. I still have more time until midnight so I have to bear with the diplomacy and boring politics for Yerin’s sake.

We start dancing to the soothing music played by the orchestra. Thanks to sword-wielding I have a good posture and balance but despite having taken dance classes, I’m nowhere near as graceful as Yerin. On the other hand, Jimin seems to be born to dance: his moves are smooth, his steps are light and he doesn’t even concentrate on the waltz but to keep our conversation going.

“Sorry. I don’t know what has gotten into me today. Usually I’m not this clumsy,” I apologize after I stepped on his foot again but the prince doesn’t seem angry at all. He simply laughs it off.

“It’s okay, Your Highness, it’s an honour to dance with you nonetheless.”

Somewhere between talking about the seaside palace they have (which he suggests I… or at least Yerin should visit soon) and discussing that dumpling entrée they serve here, another guest interrupts him:

“May I steal the lady?”

My eyes snap at the owner of this new silky voice that’s slightly deeper than Jimin’s. He’s standing tall wearing an elegant tuxedo with a grey vest and white shirt under it. His hair is dark brown with touches of black and it’s parted in the middle to complete the fine look. But what really takes it to another level is the sparkle in his eyes and his wide smile not hidden under his silver mask.

“Of course! I can’t say no to the birthday boy, can I?” My dance partner muses and his hands slide off of my waist as I properly look at the newcomer. So he’s Prince Hoseok, only son of House Jung. The one I should and plan to kill in only the matter of few hours. Poor him, he doesn’t even suspect that he just walked straight into a trap.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Jimin smiles at me which I reciprocate politely.

“Likewise.”

As I watch the Busan prince go, nervousness bubbles up in my insides again. I’m really not good at small talks and such things. I have no decent plan on how I should try to do this, I mostly just go with the flow.

“Princess Yerin,” the host bows courteously deep in front of me and so far I have no complaints about his manners.

“Prince Hoseok,” I curtsey and greet him while casting my eyes down.

A princess should be handled with care as delicately as a flower and as preciously as diamonds, Yerin told me when I whined about not liking to be treated like I was weak. This can be your biggest weapon, she added and acting all shy and vulnerable has already proved me that men instinctively want to seem like heroes by protecting the damsel in distress. Which I am not but they have no idea.

“Shall we?” the prince motions towards the dancing couples and I nod without hesitation. After all, this will be his last dance. Let’s get it started.

It’s more difficult with Hoseok because contrary to Jimin, now I have to focus on the task, trying to find a way to get him alone without seeming suspicious or an easy woman. I can’t let people talk about the Crown Princess that way.

“You are truly as pretty as they say: just like peach blossoms,” the prince exclaims suddenly with a loose smile as he puts one of his hands gently on my waist and guides me until I sway to the rhythm of the music properly. Even though I knew the compliment is meant to Yerin, I can’t help the blush creeping up on my neck. I’m not used to such nice words. People usually praise my skills and loyalty but not my looks.

“Thank you. You also look dashing,” I say bashfully and surprisingly honest. Nobody warned me the Prince would be so handsome. Even like this, with the mask half-covering his face.

“You don’t have to lie, Princess,” he shakes his head but his expression is still warm and caring. He treats me like someone who is trying to prove something and he needs to calm me down. But I'm not a kid.

“I don’t lie and it’s quite insulting that you think so lowly of me.”

Hoseok’s face falls at my cold answer but he quickly resumes:

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. But I’m sure you understand my worries. Honesty is a rare virtue nowadays. I just want you to feel comfortable around me. Don’t feel pressured because I am the host or anything.”

Or by the fact that you would announce your engagement with Yerin at midnight?

“I will try,” I promise even though I know I am such a hypocrite getting offended because he thought my shared opinion wasn’t true when in reality, my identity is itself a lie .

“Sorry if I made it awkward. According to my sister, I tend to speak without thinking first and I should watch my mouth or otherwise one day I will ask about an official’s underpant’s colour,” Hoseok chatters and I can’t help the light chuckle that escapes my mouth at the thought of a face of said official. It would be an amusing sight for sure.

“Your sister sounds lovely and wise. I would be delighted to meet her one day,” I add politely as the smile’s faint trace still lingers on my face. Something flickers in my dance partner’s eyes I can’t quite decipher but they’re beaming again in no time.

“She would like you,” he says and we continue dancing in silence, waltzing around in ease. I find it amazing how simple it is once I allow my partner to lead me. Hoseok is gentle, easily spins me in his arms.

“My parents send their greetings,” I blurt out after a while because it’s been quiet for too long and I feel uncomfortable under the Prince’s intense, searching gaze. Plus, it’s something Yerin would say: the lovely but as we can see not-so-obedient daughter.

“I appreciate it greatly,” Hoseok smiles again. It’s addictive, radiant and content. He seems genuinely glad that I was the one who spoke up now. “Although I‘m more delighted to have you here. Finally.”

His confession takes me by surprise a bit. I can’t help but wonder whether he’s courting or just well-mannered. Honest or sneaky. But I let myself assume he didn’t make things up because he just said that he doesn’t like that.

“Me, too,” I nod deciding in favour of staying formal and polite. Just like Yerin would do.

The Prince’s smile shines brighter than all the crystals in the room.

“Then I hope you will enjoy your stay here,” he presses the word ‘stay’ and the subtle indication makes me choke on my saliva. I clear my throat covering up my coughs.

“You mean… after the engagement?” I blurt out and stop beating around bush. I have had enough of tiptoeing around the topic. I’m about to offer him a way out, a chance to save himself. “Well, about that...”

“You don’t seem too enthusiastic about it,” the Prince interrupts me apologetically and stops dancing abruptly that brings me to halt, too. His eyes mirror sadness and I couldn’t bring myself to offend him even more with the truth. He doesn’t have to know that Yerin loathes the thought of marrying him just because she’s madly in love with a servant boy. And that’s where I come into the picture: I should kill him to solve this problem.

“I... I don’t even know you,” I find an excuse quickly and that’s all it takes to wipe the frown off of Hoseok’s face.

“Then, get to know me. Come on, I will show you something you’ll like,” he offers with a wide, encouraging smile. He steps back a little and extends his sword-hand towards me with its palm up. I hesitate for a second while my gaze is drifting from his sincere eyes to his inviting hand. I have literally nothing to lose, so I nod and take his hand as he guides me outside of the huge ballroom. This could be probably my best shot to be alone with him after all.

“The other guests won’t be disappointed because of your absence?” I find myself asking as we sneak out to the gardens.

I’m so immersed into my beautiful surroundings - all the exotic flora and the starry night - that I forget to hold up my skirt. The Crown Princess will scold me for sure for ruining her dress but I don’t really care. Despite my unpleasant task I’d like to enjoy the night to its fullest because who knows when I will get another chance like this? At every ball I’ve been before I was Her Highness’ best-trained guard because nobody thought a girl like me could snap their necks for any wrong move.

“Even if they are, it doesn’t bother me. You’re the most important guest for me,” Hoseok’s answer is a melody sung by the moonlight and his raspy voice outbellows the fading music’s sounds.

I cringe at the borderline flirty line. It looks like Gwanju’s Prince takes his responsibility to his country very seriously and intends to play along with the arranged marriage plans. In this case, option number one is out, hence he has to die. Even if he’s way too handsome to die so young. Such a pity, but life is harsh and nobody knows this better than me. Losing my mother at an early age, being the black sheep among the palace’s kids and treated like a boy most of the time taught me that life isn’t fair at all.

“Where are we going?” I ask a little bit suspiciously because the dark shadows of the castle provide an unfamiliar scene that’s obviously a disadvantage for me and my plans. The ridiculous thought crosses my mind that maybe the Prince already knows why I am here and wants to set up a trap. But just before I would take out my dagger under my dress, I can distinguish the smell of dung and straw in the air. Therefore, it’s not hard to locate the shed ahead of us.

“You’re still fond of horses?” Hoseok asks and I’m rendered speechless for a while. He actually remembered this tiny fact about Yerin. She has always loved these graceful animals.

“Yeah,” I nod and the next thing I know is that the Prince is introducing me to the members of the royal horse family. His words, not mine.

He’s like a proud father when he praises his favourite mare called Hope. Although I’m more fascinated by a beautiful black horse called Angel that reminds me of my own. Without me noticing, I’m getting side-tracked talking about animals and adventures while I pat the friendly creatures one by one. The birthday boy seems more than content that we found a common topic and his offer doesn’t take me by surprise.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

Even though my dress is definitely not made for this, I can’t help but agree. Hoseok helps me up when he sees my struggle because of the long skirt and uncomfortable shoes. And then we race along.

It’s an amazing, refreshing feeling. The wind keeps blowing my hair, messing it up but I don’t care. Laughter bubbles up from my throat without my consent and it feels wonderful because I have no idea when was the last time I felt so free. Even though I have no royal duties like the real princess does but I have to attend trainings, exercise a lot and still take useless classes like literature. Despite the Incheon palace being grandiose, I often feel locked up, prisoned even when I cannot decide for myself what to do and what not. I only follow orders and after twenty years of loyalty, the sudden snip of freedom makes me thirsty for more. I enjoy the ride but after some time the forest becomes darker, the moon shines brighter and we wander farther and farther away from the noises of the palace. When we reach a wide lake, Hoseok’s whistle stops the well-trained horses and I catch my breath.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The Prince asks as we walk on the lakeshore and I marvel at the sight of the silver palace in the distance under the pale moon and starry sky.

“You have indeed a wonderful land, Your Highness,” I praise his kingdom but there’s no dishonestly in my words this time. Everything is so beautiful about our surroundings. The valley, the lake, the distant outline of the palace are all breathtaking but I cannot deny that Hoseok’s smile illuminated by the moonlight is also quite charming.

“Thank you,” he looks at me fondly and I’m surprised he hasn’t asked me to remove our masks yet. He must really want me to feel comfortable enough with him.

“Here,” the prince passes me his water bottle that had been attached to his saddle when we return the horses. „Ladies first.”

I take it from him with a grateful smile and gulp down a few snips after sniffing the liquor carefully. Maybe it’s because I, myself can’t be trusted, I have the tendency to doubt others’ hidden intentions as well. I turn my back on Hoseok pretending to wipe the water off my chin while I quickly add the poison into the water when the prince isn’t looking. I almost feel bad for him but the order is as clear as the cloudless sky and I probably won’t have sleepless nights after this. I’ve seriously injured people who wanted to hurt Yerin before, too. It’s no exception that his aim is her heart. At least, that’s how I convince myself.

“Thank you,” I push the bottle back into Prince Hoseok’s hands but he gets so startled that he accidently drops it and the drink is spilled all over the ground splendidly ruining plan A.

“Oh my bad, I’m so clumsy,” he apologizes and picks up the almost empty bottle, hooking it onto the saddle back again.

Or rather lucky, I mutter to myself frustrated and curl my fingers into a fist.

“Shouldn’t we head back?” I blurt out almost pleading. I need a second chance to pierce my dagger through his heart and watching the moonlit lake doesn’t help at all. Especially because I begin to doubt my resolution more and more by each passing moment spent with him.

“Do you want to?” Hoseok tilts his head to the side watching me closely, his eyes filled with crystals of curiosity. I wonder what kind of answer he desires and what he expects me to say. It’s scary that how much I don’t want to disappoint him. It’s even more ridiculous how honest my answer is:

“No.”

“Then we don’t have to,” the prince concludes as if we could do anything we want without worrying about our responsibilities. It sounds nice, a life like that but it’s only an illusion. Thrilling but only temporary.

“You are different than I imagined,” I admit and there’s nothing calculated in my words. He is indeed different from what Yerin described. I expected an arrogant, moody and boring prince but so far Hoseok has been nothing but kind, considerate and well-mannered.

“So are you. You’ve changed,” he states and I panic for a moment. I told Yerin it’s a bad idea, I can’t act like her without getting caught.

“What do you mean?” I ask as my shoulders tense.

The Gwangju Prince smiles cheekily but he sounds serious when he replies. “I remember you being all whiny and bossy.”

“Hah, I am not whiny.” I protest on Yerin’s behalf right away. Although I can’t deny that she’s a little spoiled. “But could you really blame me? You pulled my hair and stole my favourite doll.”

I’m suddenly glad that Yerin told me about that incident because it makes my objection more realistic as if we were reviving our common history. Maybe that’s why Hoseok looks so amused.

“Is that so? What was it? I might still have it, so I could return to you.”

His sudden question takes me off guard but I don’t let my face fall and betray me.

“Uh… it had pink dress and blonde hair,” I make it up quickly because there’s no way he would remember such thing. Also, a doll like this is a typical gift for Incheon girls and I’m sure Yerin had hundreds of them, so it’s a reasonable guess.

The earlier unreadable expression is back on Hoseok: his eyes are twinkling, the corners of his mouth are curling up as if he won something. My heart starts to beat faster when he takes off his black mask, revealing his face. A part of me wishes he would have some ugly scar under but no, sadly, he’s painfully handsome. And when he speaks up, his voice is firm, lacking all that brightness that previously characterized him. It scares me.

“You’re not the princess.”

“How dare you...” accusing me with something like this? I object right away but the Prince interrupts me, dare I add, quite rudely.

“It was a horse-shaped wooden toy, not a doll,” he informs me matter-of-factly.

“I might have forgotten,” I raise my chin high, not backing out but my thoughts are running miles each passing second searching for a way out.

Usually I act before I think and I know that I should kill him before he calls the guards. Maybe I should hide his body in the woods. However, my loyalty to the Crown Princess and Incheon stops me. Everybody, several guards and guests including Prince Jimin, saw us leaving and it would be hard to make them believe that Hoseok ran away. Unless Yerin wants to do the same with Taehyung but she hasn’t said anything like that. That’s why poisoning would have been the perfect solution, it would have taken at least a few hours to have its effect. She could have escaped without suspicion while killing him now would probably put all the blame on the Princess and it would unleash a cruel war between the two kingdoms.

“I know you’re not her. You can stop lying,” Hoseok says coldly and my offended expression immediately changes.

“Why? So you can call the guards?” I raise an eyebrow with a quiz look but the Prince stays completely calm eyeing me curiously, waiting for my next move.

“I won’t call them.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m interested,” he explains simply, shrugging. “If you’re not Yerin, who are you and why are you here?”

The exact question I don’t want to answer and he must know it, too, since he figured the rest out. I take a step back turning away but the prince grabs my arm before I could flee.

“Let me go!” I hiss at him completely dropping the lovely princess facade.

“Woo, feisty,” he smirks and the smug smile spreads on his handsome features like flowers blossom.

He still doesn’t let go off my arm and something in me snaps. With practiced quick movement I pull out my dagger under my skirt where it was attached to my shin with a slim belt and press it against the prince’s tan throat. However, instead of shutting up, he mockingly laughs at me while he pulls his hand back.

“It’s not funny,” I snap at him irritated but his smile doesn’t falter.

“It is. I just asked your name and you pulled out a dagger,” he chuckles like it was the most amusing thing that happened to him in a while.

We stare at each other for a long time. His eyes are carefully trained on me as if I was a prideful kitten ready to scratch anyone who dares to touch me. The edge of my sharp dagger is digging into the soft flesh of his neck drawing tiny drops of blood. Even though my face is as cold as stone, I can see it in his fearless eyes that he knows I won’t kill him. He just knows and I hate that I tremble a little when the silence breaks.

“Your Highness!” the guards’ deep voice resonate through the air and I flinch at the approaching tramping sound.

My heart is pounding loudly in my ears and the betrayal hurts more than it should. Maybe it was a trap all along but no, I won’t let him get me. Just like Yerin said, I was the best and I wouldn’t want to disappoint her or bring shame to my country. They can’t catch me or otherwise they would figure out my connection to the Princess and every plan would go to hell.

“Don’t follow me!” I warn Hoseok even though I have nothing I could hold against him. I point my dagger straight at him ready to throw it and pin him to the nearest tree but he doesn’t move. He holds up his arms defensively and doesn’t even try to stop me while I hop on Angel.

The last thing I see before I dart into the depth of the forest is Hoseok’s sincere gaze and sad pout. I gallop through the woods straight to the abandoned inn we agreed to meet with the Crown Princess without looking back.

♪♫ I want you a lot, a lot, a lot

The Prince didn’t follow me, neither the guards that searched for him. Little did I know then that they didn’t need to because he already had my dagger that I accidentally dropped when I got on the horse. The dagger has my initials and family pendant decorating its handle. It’s too late when I realize this. I’m so screwed.

I tell Yerin I failed the mission big time and that they are probably searching for her impostor, so we quickly make up the story that she fell sick during the ride so that’s why she didn’t attend the ball and she doesn’t know anything about what happened there. I’m ready to face any negative consequences brought by my lack of professionalism and pathetic incompetence to kill the Prince. However, despite not being able to sleep a blink at all in fear of what’s going to come, the news delivered by the royal messenger are totally different from what I expected.

According to the news, His Highness, Prince Hoseok angered his parents by saying no to the engagement with Princess Yerin because he believes he found a mysterious lady more suitable to be his future wife on the night of the Masquerade. Furthermore, he intends to visit the nearby kingdoms in order to find the said bride that caught his eye. Luckily for him (and unfortunately for me), blonde hair is only common in the northern regions of the peninsula. Plus, I’m almost certain that he has already found out that I am close with the Incheon Princess. It wouldn’t take him long to marche on our lands and knock on my door. I dread and fear the day when he comes because I highly doubt that the impression I had left on him would make him want to marry me. I’m sure this false marriage offer is just a trick to catch me. Yet, the gossips are impossible to stop now and some versions are beyond ridiculous.

“So stupid... I mean who would run away if the Prince of Gwangju wanted to kiss her?” I heard two of Yerin’s cousins talking one day while the maidens created folk stories about a siren that can only be on land until the clock ticks midnight. However, I know well that it’s a story with no happy ending.

Never have I thought I would be the protagonist of such gossips but luckily, nobody guessed it was me or had anything to do with it. Only Yerin and her horseboy know about my identity, so I’m safe in the palace until Hoseok finds me because I’m sure he will eventually. Till then I can never hear the end of the Princess’ teasing:

“I don’t know how you did it but you’re amazing. Making the Prince falling in love with you? It’s perfect! Why didn’t I think about it?”

My father has also sensed the change in my behaviour but only comments on me being more jumpy than before. True, I’m constantly on edge, ready to fight if they want to catch me. Still, I don’t expect anyone to disturb my peaceful archery practice.

“You should pull the string closer to your mouth,” the low voice corrects my position and deep in concentration I angle the string just like I’m told and fire without looking at the sudden intruder.

The arrow hits the middle circle of the target in one swish movement and a satisfied smile appears on my face. I wipe my sweaty hands onto my training clothes and turn towards the stranger to thank for the advice when I come across a familiar face. I can’t help but stumble backwards in shock. My hands tighten around the bow since it’s the only weapon I have with me but the visitor doesn’t seem harmful at all: he’s alone, his guards are at the entrance of the garden, and it looks like he doesn’t have any deadly weapon either beside that stupid smile on his face. He wears a dark uniform with his kingdom’s symbols all over it and his dark hair is a messy bunch but he still manages to look exceptionally good. It’s so unfair.

“You are prettier without your mask on,” he says it so casually I almost drop everything and run. How can he be so calm? Still, my momentary panic doesn’t stop the blush creeping onto my face. It’s kind of evil of him to compliment me at this time even though it doesn’t sound sarcastic at all. It shouldn’t mean anything but it warms my hearts that he thinks this way despite knowing that I’m not Yerin. In fact, I’m no princess at all.

“I thought you don’t like lies,” I clear my throat and press my lips in a firm line.

“Says the girl who impersonated a princess at my ball and tried to poison me,” Hoseok counters with a scoff, not fazed at all by my boldness. I gulp nervously but straighten my back because I won’t go down without a fight and if I do go down in the end, I will do it pridefully.

“Are you here to capture me?” I raise my chin high and despite acting nonchalantly, my heart is pounding loudly in my ears.

“After all the trouble I went through just to find you? No. I’m here to ask for your hand,” the Prince replies quickly and looks dead serious, his deep brown eyes piercing into mine so sincerely that I have to turn away. I busy myself with settling down the bow, so that I don’t look easy in front of him. I don’t want to boost his ego even more because he already knows that I have a weak spot for him.

“Are you crazy?” I force out a laugh, hoping that maybe he would join me in laughter. However, Hoseok only smiles, looking smug as if he expected me to say that. “I tried to kill you and you know that! Why would you want to marry me?”

“Would you rather be executed for your crime?” the Gwangju Prince sneakily avoids answering my question with throwing another one back at me. One that he knows I can’t say yes to. I’m not that eager to die to say that.

I’m already in age to marry anyway, it’s only the matter of time until my father offers my hand to one of his soldiers. Hypothetically thinking, a prince doesn’t sound so bad but to be realistic, it’s too good to be true.

“No but it’s insane. Where’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” Hoseok shakes his head relentlessly. “I never intended to marry Yerin. I was going to tell her this that night but you intrigued me so much I decided to play along with your act.”

“You knew all along?” my jaw drops in astonishment.

“Almost. You said you would be happy to get to know my sister. That was what gave you away because last summer she and Yerin went to the Princess’ praying together.”

“Oh...” I hang my head low. Such a pity that I failed my mission almost right away. Incheon must be ashamed of me. So much for being one of the best.

Hoseok takes a careful step closer that I see more than I hear it: his shoes appear in my range of vision but he moves so silently, with such grace and ease that it should be scary. Yet, it doesn’t come off threatening. Especially when he adds the next words in a playful manner:

“By the way, you’re a terrible dancer. We must work on that.”

“Gee, thanks,” I roll my eyes but I can’t deny that he successfully eased the tension a little. At least, enough for me to look up at him. He’s so close I can smell his musky scent faintly and it takes my breathe away. I have grown up amidst of soldiers and fighters yet I have never met anyone as fearless as him. It just doesn’t make sense. “Aren’t you afraid that I might finish the job and kill you in your sleep?”

“Oh so it was a job,” he chuckles gleefully and from the looks of it, he doesn’t even care that somebody wanted him dead so bad that they hired me to take his life. “In that case, death would be undoubtedly sweet. But you’ll be smitten before you could try. We both felt that spark and I plan on seriously courting you from now on. Shouldn’t you be concerned instead?”

“In your dreams,” I scoff at his over-confidence with narrowed eyes but I have to admit it’s impossible to stay mad at him for long. Why? Because he has freaking dimples and apparently he isn’t ashamed of using them against women. What’s more, he’s right: I did feel that electric spark between us. It would have been hard not to. I still feel the ghost of his fingers on my waist where he gently but tightly held me close while we danced.

“Oh I can assure you, you are in every single one of them,” he smirks and suddenly his voice drops very low and tempting. I shake my head trying to get rid of the scandalous thoughts it provokes.

“Anyway, don’t you need a princess?”

“For what? I’ve met enough and no offense, but most of them are boring,” he gives a hushed answer leaning a little closer and making sure nobody hears us. I’m torn between pushing him away and letting myself bath in his close presence. In the end, I take a step back and act as if I didn’t see his sad pout. “I won’t rule anyway. My sister and her husband will. I’m second in line only until they have an heir.”

Ah, I didn’t know that, so I certainly look just as baffled as I feel. I’ve had so many prejudices against him just because he’s a prince but so far he’s proved to be a down-to-earth and fun-loving guy who doesn’t care about titles. In a country where even the way they look at you depends on your social rank, it’s a fresh feeling, I feel like I can finally breathe beside him. Maybe that’s why I was reluctant to kill him in the first place: there’s was nothing evil about him contrary to how Yerin described him. He didn’t think so highly of himself like most of the princes I’ve met before and he treats me now the same way he treated me even when he thought I was the Crown Princess of Incheon. Nowadays, it’s hard to find as genuine people as him.

“You seem alright with that,” I blurt out dumbfounded because that’s another factor in which he’s different. The royalty around here would do anything to satisfy their thirst for power and the throne but he doesn’t look like it. To be honest, he looks more like the kind who enjoys collecting flowers in the meadow.

“I really am. The burden of the crown is not for me and luckily my parents also accept and support my decisions,” he nods with a happy little smile and then cheekily, eyes twinkling he adds: “For example, marrying the mysterious lady from the ball.”

I can’t help but snort. Is he for real? I’ve never thought he actually meant it.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Then give me a chance to get to know you,” he says gently as if he was asking for permission and his eyes, bright stars on the dark sky are trained on me, pleading.

The situation feels familiar; it reminds me of our conversation before riding those beautiful horses under the moonlight. He hasn’t pressured me into anything and he isn’t the kind who would force himself on me if I said a definite ‘no’. But do I really want to say no and put an end to his courting already? Or do I want to have a chance to decide whether to marry somebody or not? It’s a delirious feeling: to be in control of my own life; no ranks, no arranged marriages, just a boy asking for a chance. Who am I to deny him that when he offers me a whole new world of possibilities?

“Alright, you can give it a shot,” I shrug and Hoseok’s face immediately lights up. His eyes turn into crescents, little wrinkles of happiness and his dimples are showing. He is so caught up in his own happy little world, I’m almost sorry for breaking it down for him: “But you need my father’s blessing.”

“Of course, it goes without saying,” he nods eagerly, straightening his back, soothing down every possible crinkle in his uniform to make himself look even more presentable. Though, he’s already the most handsome prince even showing up in Incheon by my standards. “Who is your father? I shall ask for his audience.”

Even though it shouldn’t, it takes me by surprise that he doesn’t know that. Everyone around me treats me according to this fact: soldiers think I’m daddy’s little girl while the royalty looks down on me because of our lower status. I don’t know why but it makes me glad that he’s genuinely interested even if it’s because of some twisted reason.

“He’s Incheon’s commander-in-chief.”

Hoseok gulps, his eyes visibly bulging. “Isn’t his nickname Red Eye?”

“Yeah,” I hum while trying to suppress my amused smile. It’s funny to see him so flustered just because of my father’s reputation.

I have to admit, Father looks a little scary and he can be quite intimidating with his robust built and red scar across his left eye. Since he has planned on giving my hand to a worthy soldier, I’m sure he won’t be amazed by a nobleman who thinks sword-play is only a game.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. I only leave the two of them alone for an hour and they are best friends by the time I arrive back. Father likes the Prince’s humour and they already set up a date to go hunting together. My jaw drops when they invite me to join.

“She is exceptionally good,” my father praise me while he has his arm around Hoseok’s shoulder as if he was a son to him. I can’t believe my eyes.

“I can’t wait to see,” the Prince grins widely as I shake my head disapprovingly. Yet, deep down I’m also excited to see how things will turn out.

♪♫ Kiss me on the lips

Hoseok quickly becomes a constant guest at the palace. His sunshine-like cheerful personality brings colours to the snow white place. Even though I claim that he’s a pain in the ass because he keeps distracting me from my daily duties, his silly antics make me smile more than I used to. He always insists to accompany me to my archery practices, asks me to show him around the town or ride horses together alongside the seashore. He wants to teach me how to dance properly despite my protests and he tells me a new poem every other day. Sometimes he doesn’t come for days because of his responsibilities that bound him to his kingdom and once being away for more than a week, silly me starts to miss him. That’s when his letter arrives and I smile like an idiot reading his both cheeky and cheesy lines like Do you miss me like I miss you? I wish we could meet at least in our dreams.

“So... do you like him?” Yerin catches me off guard as she comes out of nowhere and plops down beside me on one of the benches in the garden. It’s ridiculous how supportive she is when it comes to my so-called relationship with the Gwangju Prince. “You must like him if you didn’t kill him that one time when he tickled you in middle of shooting,” she nudges my shoulder a little while I press the letter to my chest unconsciously. We are best friends but there are some things that I’d like to keep to myself. Just like she kept her relationship with Taehyung as a secret for so long.

“And look at that smile,” the Princess coos poking my cheeks and I roll my eyes but can’t find it in me to protest. Yerin just looks at me knowingly and asks me to braid her hair. At least, it distracts me from thinking about him too much.

Next time he visits, Hoseok makes an official apology to the King and Queen of Incheon. He tells them that even though he cannot control his heart, he’s willing to make any further diplomacy contract to keep the alliance between the two kingdoms. When he bows to the Princess, there’s something on her face that tells me she might take these words to her heart. After all, she can’t keep silent about Taehyung forever.

Maybe because it’s been awhile since we talked I feel bashful when it’s time to say goodbye. Hoseok kisses the back of my hand as always but there’s something in his eyes that I cannot decipher but it fills me with anticipation. I don’t have to wait long because as soon as I’m excused and step out of the throne room, I immediately bump into him and his wide smile that haunts me in my sweet dreams.

“Can I have the honour to accompany you to your practice?” he enquires eagerly and I nod quite shyly. He’s known my schedule by heart already but still waits for my permission every time. Just like he patiently waits for my yes or no like a gentleman and doesn’t try to rush me. But it’s been almost two months now and I know I have to give him an answer soon.

“You have improved a lot,” he praises me at the end of my short archery session and plays with the bows he just pulled out of the straw bale that serves as a makeshift target. “Do you want me to put an apple on my head and stand here?”

“Don’t joke around, it would be dangerous,” I scold him coldly and watch as his joyful expression fades into a serious one.

“It’s not a joke. I trust you,” he states so confidently that it shocks me and I stop in the middle of packing away. My hands freeze in mid-air and I turn to him curiously.

“How can you trust me knowing once I wanted to kill you?”

It’s a straightforward question, so raw and honest as like we were on that first day without our masks on. Since then we didn’t talk about the circumstances of our meeting, acting like it never happened but it never failed to amaze me that Hoseok didn’t even care about the fact that I almost poisoned him. However, because of the way he acted around the Princess I’m certain he figured everything out by now.

“My gut feeling is working quite well and I also have good reflexes, you know. You couldn’t have killed me even if you really wanted, darling,” he provokes me with a wink but his words sound earnest, lacking the common playfulness in his behaviour. I’m not the kind to back out of such an obvious challenge if I ever hear one.

I know it’s a long shot but I only want to test him, so I punch him anyway. At least, I try to but he’s quick to grab my wrist and turn it behind my back while he pulls me close. I can feel every breath he takes as his chest is pressed against my back and his lips brush slightly the shell of my ear as he speaks:

“Gotcha.”

His deep voice radiating through my body and I feel warm all of a sudden. It’s odd to have him so close to me and it makes me feel things I cannot name. It’s odd but it also feels nice and I wouldn’t be against staying in his hold for a long time. But Hoseok immediately lets me go at the first signs of my discomfort murmuring a faint sorry.

“I wasn’t brought up to be a good housewife,” I blurt out suddenly, turning on my heels to be face-to-face with him. With his ever so handsome face that hurts my heart in a good way. If that’s even possible. “I have no mother who could have taught me how to cook, I bathed in mud instead of playing with dolls, on my good days I can hit a squirrel from a mile but I can’t knit to save a life,” I confess suddenly feeling self-conscious about lacking these ladylike manners.

It doesn’t help that I often hear Yerin’s relatives and the royal attendance whisper behind my back about not understanding what a prince can see in me because I’m too boyish. I get their point but it still hurts my pride. Yet, Hoseok doesn’t seem bothered by the confused questions, nor he’s interested in the princesses lining up to him.

“I don’t care. I like you,” the Prince confesses frankly, not trying to hide anything. It makes me feel those stupid butterflies in my stomach that I overheard a few maids talking about when I was younger. So this is how it feels to be in love? “I like that you don’t humble yourself before me just because I’m a prince. I like how strong and independent you are. I love that you blush whenever I tell you you’re beautiful.”

Because I’m nothing special, I want to scream but I know that he’s so stubborn I could never convince him. Instead, I look him straight in the eyes, trying hard not to blush this time. I clear my throat. “Remember this because you have to take responsibility.”

“For what?” his eyebrows knit in confusion and I feel heat creeping up my neck as I reply:

“For making me fall for you.”

The shift in Hoseok’s expression is like watching the sunset turning from dark violet hues into bright orange ones. He takes a step closer, towering over me and looking at me oh so fondly. His eyes are full of stars as he gently caresses my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

“So is this a yes?” he asks, bright brown eyes mirroring hope and caring.

I smile softly and don’t hesitate at all. “Yes.”

And there, on the sandy archery field, the least romantic place ever, he pulls me into a sweet kiss and I feel like we could get our own happily ever after, too.

#bbc monthly: royalty #bangtan bookclub #hoseok fluff #bts fluff #jhope fluff #series: once upon a fairytale #disney au #cinderella au #royalty au #bts scenarios #bts oneshot #hoseok scenarios #hoseok oneshot #stories

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