I turned and moved while staring at my reflection in the mirror, examining the suit. It was cheap; that was the only conclusion I could draw when comparing it to the ones Romeo usually wore. The subtle details and tighter fit made more difference than ever I imagined., especially since this damn thing felt too big on me. I’d never owned a stupid suit. Though, Bruno kept telling me it looked fine.

Kayson adjusted the cuffs, shaking his head. “You’re pretending to be a student who attends a private school. You’re supposed to be out for a night of fun but secretly looking to find the edge you need to get past the Sect trials.” He coached me for the third time. “Quit scowling like that.”

“Well, how aint I supposed to scowl when you’re making me pretend to be some snobby rich kid? Why can’t I walk in as myself? Simple enough, right? You said it was a club with a fighting pit, yeah?”

“Because a simple street punk like you doesn’t have the kind of chips to buy alchemical products. And normally wouldn’t be stupid enough to go around asking like an idiot for that kind of thing.” I let my anger show on my face.

Even worse was Eve sitting there watching with a taunting smile. “You should be happy, Luca; for once, you don’t look like a completely worthless scumbag.”

I flipped her the middle finger. They'd shoved her in a tight fancy red dress that belonged to Kayson’s sister.

Not sure what made me more upset. The fact that no matter what I did, she’d look better than me or that I was going to walk into the place looking like a clown at her side.

“Why does she gotta tag along? Last thing I want is a date with that bitch—“

“As if you’d be so lucky, asshole.” She threw her purse at me. That’s right; she had an immortals-damned purse. Kayson talked her into bringing one—to stash the phone she would steal. It didn’t suit her. I’d grown too used to seeing her in baggy pants and band t-shirts.

Eve turned, setting her back to me so she could focus on applying her makeup. I paused and questioned my right to complain. At least I didn’t have to get dolled up in makeup.

I pointed my finger at Kayson. “What makes ya think I aint going to blow this?”

“Because, Luca. Contrary to what you show the world with all the dumb risks you take. Or maybe because of them, you react quickly. You can adapt. It’s a valuable skill, but I need you to adjust it to influence your behavior. If you apply that same level of flexibility to other parts of yourself, you’ll be able to pull off stuff like this easily. Think of it like bluffing in poker. I see the potential in you.”

“Who needs this plan! Let us wade in and start a massive battle! A glorious scene of violence that will end with me knocking out this drug pusher in the fighting pit! I cannot picture a more worthy tale!” Bruno threw back his head, cackling. Kayson ignored him, adjusting my suit while his sister fretted over Eve’s dress.

He was trying too hard. Even though Bruno attempted to hide it, I could tell he was tense. He didn’t like us going alone with minimal support. This club was high class and far outside of me and Eve’s comfort zone. Or maybe, I pegged him wrong. It could be the big guy just wanted to scope out the fighting pit and have a bloodbath. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

“You can do this.” Kayson finished fussing over my suit. Taking a moment to look me in the eyes, he rested a hand on my shoulder. “This will be what you’re good at. Even if you don’t see it, give it a try, let yourself sink into the role, and pretend you’re a student at the Kaminari Academy. You know where it is.”

Of course, I did. We’d run through this backstory several times. It was in the Lantern District. It was a private school that prepared students for sect trials; like other high-society academies, it only took kids with Soul Seeds. If they failed to get into a sect, they got a nice cozy spot in a college—the sort of place filled with stuck-up pricks.

“Ya know I do.”

“Consider yourself one of them. Cut the Southside slang, and think of yourself as a cultivator in their school. You need these alchemical supplies; you’re worried about the upcoming Himawari Sect trials, and without them to boost you, you’re worried. But what you do have is money.”

Pfft. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Immortals know I never wanted to join a Sect, even the great Himawari Sect. Even if the place were so influential that the wealthy struggled to bribe their way in, they’d scrape and bow at the chance to join as an outer disciple. But all the money in the world couldn’t buy a spot; they required talent.

But if my job was to play the part of someone looking to get into that world? Some spoiled rich kid trying to find a way to buy my way in? Well, I’d seen their type before.

“I’ll give it a shot, but I don’t promise nothing.”

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— ♤ - ♥ - ♧ - ♦ —

Kayson really fucking sprang for this mission. He rented a luxury car with a driver to transport us to the club. Before we got in the car, he gave me a pouch filled with five hundred spirit chips. Where and how he’d managed that much, I didn’t know. And he didn’t explain.

He pressed into us the importance of the image we conveyed. This drug operation was one of the biggest money-makers for the Crimson Eagles, tucked away in a busy club that was especially popular during the weekends. If you were in the know, you could make your way to the back and bet on fighters. Fights like this weren’t strictly legal, but even the sects sometimes sent their members to places like this for combat experience.

Eve scowled at me in the back of the black car, refolding her legs for the seventh time. She was like a lioness trapped in a cage. “This is a waste of time.” She tapped her fingers against her folded arm.

“Well, ya ain—you aren’t wrong. Bound to go tits up—er, going to go wrong.” I said, feeling hot under the collar. Trying to get rid of my slang was like chopping my tongue off. The hell did Kayson see in me that made him think I could do this? After getting into this unbearable stiff suit, he drilled me for hours on my language.

She frowned. “Gonna bomb, aren’t you?”

I gave her hard eyes. Even if I thought we would fail, I didn’t want to admit it when she asked

“Bet you fifty chips you do.”

“Ya fucker—er, Screw you.” She smiled. It was the first time I’d seen it since we got stuffed in these ridiculous getups. The shared suffering we had made me feel a little bit closer. For better or worse, we were stuck in this dumb situation together. “Fine, you’re on.” If I doubted myself, where would it stop? Maybe a bet would help me pull it together.

I sat up straighter and cleared my throat. The car was coming to a stop. My Soul Seed seemed to resonate as I put even more at stake in the situation. Eve seemed to notice the change, giving me an odd look.

If I was going to pull this off, I had to not think like myself, instead, I had to see through the eyes of the role I was playing. I could and would pull this off. I stepped out of the car, not even looking at the club. Instead, I made my way to Eve’s side, opened the door for her, and offered an arm. Normally a gesture like that would leave me wanting to claw my skin off, but not while I wasn’t myself.

She watched me warily while stepping out—taking my offered arm. I ignored the instinct to shove my hands away into my slacks. Instead, I fixed the horrible choking tie around my neck. Then we made our way to the door.

As Kayson promised, the club was booming. The music blasted, and there was a long line in front of the bouncer. But I wasn’t a street rat. No, there wasn’t any reason why I should have to wait to get in. I pulled Eve along to the front, skipping everyone else and ignoring the calls of protest from the people patiently waiting their turn. The bald bouncer ran his eyes up and down me. He seemed unimpressed.

“Line’s back there.” He gestured to the people waiting.

Selling your bluff meant playing the right cards. I fished out the leather pouch in my coat; I slipped a ruby spirit chip into the bouncer's hand with narrowed eyes. Letting the feeling of loss at the fifty chips wash away.

“Welcome to Heaven’s Delight.” He nodded and moved aside.

Everything in New Valentine was about status, but how they perceived your status was as important. I strode in like I owned the world; my nose turned up to this place. In my head, I tracked the flaws. The music was too loud, there wasn’t enough staff for the people in here, and the lighting was insufficient. Never mind the fantastic DJ, nor the novel drinks. This place was too rich for Luca Cavicchi, the street rat’s blood.

But it wasn’t too rich for Luca student of Kaminari Academy and a future member of the Himawari Sect. In fact, this place was actually a dressed-up shit hole. Eve moved stiffly at my side, looking at me the way someone might a wild animal. I ignored her and dragged her past the dance floor so we could speak to an attendant.

“Excuse me, Ma’am.” I forced proper enunciation. “My friends told me there were more ‘engaging’ activities at this establishment on the weekends.” My tongue twisted in weird directions, but I ran with it. It was like wearing a second skin and oddly compelling. Bluffing like this seemed like a natural extension of myself. I enjoyed weaving my way through this world with the permanent risk of discovery hanging over my head. Each word could lead in so many directions. My Soul Seed hummed with pleasure.

The attendant arched an eyebrow, a mild flicker of annoyance on her face transformed into a false subservience. It seemed I hit the right tone to make her buy it—time to sell my persona. I pulled Eve closer by the waist, dismissing my disgust and displeasure at the act. Eve wasn’t as good at hiding it, but luckily the girl was too stunned to react and blow our cover.

The attendant shifted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play coy. I’m here for the fights. I don’t have time to waste with this nonsense.” I bled anger and annoyance into my tone. As if I were about three seconds away from asking to speak to her manager. My shoulders rose, and I pushed Eve away now—like I was going to make a scene. The attendant tensed. Anger, annoyance, and also that little bit of her trying to decide if it was worth dealing with me. The breaking point.

“Ah. I’ve made a mistake. I thought you were talking about something else. Right this way.” She bowed her head. Heh. I wasn’t worth the trouble. No one liked dealing with stuck-up rich kids.

She led us along the side of the establishment. I still kept a hand around Eve’s waist. My squadmate acted surprisingly demur; I’d expected a slap behind my head. But she didn’t look in my direction at all. She was hiding her face, probably trying to keep the attendant from seeing the scowl that’d give us away.

We reached a staircase leading down, overlooked by two disguised delinquents—valuable tools for clubs like this. The edge of brutality and trouble kept blue bloods from causing issues. Or, if they did, they resolved the situation. We went down, and the club transformed from a well-decorated interior filled with flashing lights to a smoky and cramped atmosphere. A long hall with doors extended from the bottom of the stairs.

Noises of cheering replaced the too-loud music from above; it came from an open entry at the far end of the hall.