Moon: (looks) 27

Lilac: 28

With sudden clarity, Moon was hit with the fact that this was an egregious mistake. He had convinced himself that this would be different than the multitude of other times he had tried, and yet, once again, these deceptions had only led him into regret. And so shoving himself through the crowd and mumbling apologizes as people he didn’t have the effort to remember the names of patted him on the back and asked him strange questions he didn’t even bother to respond to, he made his way to the elevator, which was off limits to everyone but him. Fools could take the stairs, hoping to make their way up to the roof and the magnificent view it promised, but, he laughed, of course they would never make it. His security team made sure of that.

The ride was as smooth as butter, the mechanisms not so much as creaking, and the only reason he was aware he had made it to the top of his building was because the doors softly slid open, revealing the glass-windowed meeting rooms where the discussions of utmost importance were held. Briskly walking past and not so much as batting an eye towards the dark, abandoned rooms, he made his way to the fire escape, brushing past his security and pushing open the heavy door, only now craving something alcoholic. Sighing as he climbed up the stairs and heaved the second door open, he threw himself at one of the many crates decorating the roof, ignoring the pops of the wood as he leaned his back against the sturdy concrete of the door fixture he had just pushed through.

Rubbing his temples and melting into the wall behind him, some unbidden anger came boiling up his throat for no apparent reason, and he lashed out at whatever uncomfort he could find quickest, ripping of the stuffy blazer he had shoved himself into in hopes of looking presentable and chucking it off the 54 story building with a scream of rage. He hated parties. Why he had thought it was a good idea to host one on the anniversary of Dusk Co.’s debut was utterly unfathomable, but it had seemed like an ingenious plan when he had thought it up. He really didn’t learn from his mistakes, did he?

Panting as he looked out at the night, feeling the brisk wind stick the thin fabric of his shirt to his goosebump-riddled skin, ignoring the wind as it tossed and knotted his hair, its invisible hands feeling across his scalp and implanting who knew what into the silver strands, he was suddenly hit with such an excruciating thought that the mere presence of it seemed to burn his brain, making his eyes water and his hands shake, though either might’ve been from the cold.

He was alone.

And of course he had known this the eons he had spent running his company, but he had always been urged to keep moving by the incessant, inexplicable knowing. Just knowing that there was something coming soon. Just knowing that all his hard work was going to pay off in the near future. And yet this knowing could not help him now that he had realized such an awful truth; he would be alone forever, there was no way around it. His immortality carried him away from the things most familiar, until he didn’t even recognize the world he stood in. There was nothing to tether him here, nothing to keep him from watching as the world destroyed itself slowly but surely. There was nothing he could do but watch, because he was alone.

Nary a thought dared traverse the emptiness of his mind after that. He made his way back downstairs in silence. When the elevator doors open, he watched the crowd in front of him part like the Red Sea, allowing him to go in any way he could possibly choose. He sidled past them all, ignoring the friendly greetings that those giving them hoped would cause him to stop and chat, making a beeline straight towards his office, where he opened his door, stepped inside, and slammed it shut without so much as a word.

He left the lights off. He soaked in the darkness like it was a part of him, breathing it in and breathing it out as it spread through his veins, infecting him, tearing at him-

Something clattered off his desk. That was when he sensed it; something wasn’t right here. Flicking on the lights, expecting to find perhaps a rodent scurrying across his desk, something easily taken care of, he was utterly appalled to see just what quality his office was in; valuables of all kinds had been stripped from the walls, large dents and cuts in their wooden panels each telling stories of their own. That one told of the award that had been pried from its frame, that one explained an angry stroke as a gem refused to part from its socket, and the dark silhouette under the desk? That explained where all of it had gone.

Seeming to understand that they had gotten caught, the shadow bolted, plucking any other valuables they could lay their hands on and sprinting towards the window, a hole in the panes telling of how they had gotten in in the first place. Tsking, Moon rubbed his hands together, producing a thin rope of fire from his anger that he immediately looped around the thief’s leg just as they slid out the window, pulling it so tight they let out a cry of pain and dropped everything they had been carrying. As he yanked on the thread, the transgressor was pulled back in through the window, desperately trying to rid their leg of the thread, to which Moon just laughed. “Escaping’s futile,” he said harshly, standing over the writhing figure as it tried everything it could to get away. Pulling a gun from a holster, they immediately let out a yelp of pain as the scolding barrel burned a mark across their hand, the weapon skidding across the floor of the office and out of arm’s reach. Blows started to rain down on Moon’s body as the thief kicked, punched, and slapped him. Growling in annoyance, Moon snapped his fingers, and three more thin strands of fire, much like what he had used to rope the figure in the first place, sprouted out of the ground, wrapping themselves to the limbs and securing them in place as the figure struggled.

Stooping over the struggling thief, Moon grinned. “Pray tell who dares to steal from Moon? Perhaps you don’t know who I am?” When only silence greeted his words, he sighed, tightening the fire strands around the captured limbs until a satisfying sizzling hit the air and the figure started to scream in pain. “Oh! Don’t bother. This room is soundproof,” he said, knocking a fist against the wall as if that would prove a point. “No one will hear you through that open window, either. Magic’s fun, isn’t it?” Though the screaming had stopped, the thief was still writhing in pain, and Moon sighed, loosening his grip on the threads and saying, “You know, this is incredibly boring. I would prefer to get out of here as soon as possible, I have a party to host, you know.”

When there was still no answer, Moon tsked and reached down, ripping off the black mask covering the majority of the perpetrator’s face. What greeted him was strange. He would’ve thought a man, as sexist as that may have been. While studying the physique and movements of the thief, it was apparent that they knew what they were doing, and he had suspected that this person was a retired military officer. That, or they were part of one of the notorious gangs running rampant through the city. But the purple-haired, lavender-eyed goddess beneath him, a mixture of something hard, hesitant, and afraid shining through her tears, more freckles on her face than hairs on her head he thought, he was shocked, not something you could hear said about Moon very often.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“What-?” He allowed the shock to take control of him for merely a second before regaining control of himself and clearing his throat. “Who do you think you are, exactly, to come here and steal my personal belongings? Do you know who I am?”

Apparently feeling more vulnerable now that he knew what she looked like, she stammered, “Y-yes, I know who you are, Moon. The r-richest man in the industry. Anyone in their r-right mind w-would want one of those,” she said, motioning her head towards the window and the pile of trophies and awards Moon had won over the years. “S-someone’s bound t-to pay good m-money for that, right?”

Crossing his arms, he looked down at her. “So that’s what you’re doing this for? Money? Aren’t there much better ways to get money than by stealing?”

She shook her head. “N-no, not money. B-Bermuda H-H-Hellf-fire said that if I w-wanted to see my f-f-family again I h-had t-to bring them s-something v-very valuable… they w-wanted something of y-yours…” She grimaced as the tears leaked down her face, perhaps resigning herself to whatever fate was destined to come to pass. Moon would surely turn her in; that, or he would just straight up kill her. She would never see her family again.

What she had not expected him to say was, “You’re smart.”

Snapping her head back to him, her eyes filling with some emotion he couldn’t decipher, a question in her gaze, he kept going, his voice placid and aloof, trying to hide the other emotions broiling beneath. “You must’ve planned this for a while, huh? The party,” he laughed darkly. “I should’ve expected something like this to happen eventually.” Because for some inexplicable reason, he trusted her. He perhaps knew that he shouldn’t, that she could and probably was lying, but he trusted her. With a flick of the wrist, the bindings disappeared and he sighed, covering his face in his hands as the girl scrambled to her feet. “Just…just take them, they mean nothing to me anyway,” he said, sighing, and heard the mumbles of a blubbered thank you, the rustling of feet falling upon grass, the clang of metal upon metal, the loud laughter and clinking glasses from annoying party-goers. Slamming his head against the wall, the dented, scraped, in-need-of-repair wall, he rubbed at his deteriorating face and grumbled, “I really need some alcohol…”

And slamming the door open, much to the surprise of the nearby party guests, he made his way to the bar, grabbed two random bottles and poured them into an overflowing glass, threw it back, grunted, and shouted, “WHERE’S THE DAMN DJ!?” His words echoed throughout the building, followed soon after by shouts from the attending buisnessmen, just normal people for the night, wanting to let loose.

Grabbing a bottle and pouring himself another drink as the weary bartender just watched, Moon nursed the drink for the rest of the night, making his way through the crowd and laughing with anyone he could, the sudden pivot in attitude the most alarming thing that took place that night.

As the evening wore on and Moon’s overloaded brain worked overtime to keep him on his feet at all, the person he would’ve least expected to walk in through the large entryway did just that. Somehow laughing in spite of the situation, he weaved his way through the crowd towards the beautiful young woman in the beautiful gown, her beautiful purple hair tied into a bun and her beautiful lavender eyes scanning the crowd for him. As soon as she saw him making his way over to her, she immediately started stammering, but he just grinned and placed his hands on her shoulders, smiling softly and asking, “Care for a dance?” she looked up at him with shock, a look he reflected every time he looked back on the experience. But instead of asking questions like many would have in such a situation, she just nodded, and Moon whisked her away to the dance floor, the heat-of-the-moment making them both much better dancers than they would normally have been.

“Th-thank y-you,” she said as they danced, and he just shrugged.

“Made my night exciting. Besides, didn’t expect you to come back, even.”

She looked up at him. “Why’d y-you let me g-go then?”

He laughed heartily, something that was so rarely heard that many people stopped their dancing just to stare at him, and he stopped immediately, barely recognizing the strange, primal sound that had just come out of his mouth. “I don’t know,” he said, thinking about it.

“Y-you…” she trailed off, and he looked down at her as she pondered what words could describe this strange thing. “Y-you’re utterly mad. I d-don’t think I’ve ever m-met an ad-d-dult with such…mood swings.” She grimaced at the words. “This is s-s-so strange, you know. You’re rich, I w-would expect you to have thrown m-me out for just talking to you.”

Moon pondered this for a moment. “I suppose normally I would have,” he said, letting the words float and entwine themselves with the music. “But I already told you, I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“M-my family’s okay th-thanks to you…” she whispered, and Moon felt bad. He had almost completely forgotten why she had had to do this all in the first place. “I’m s-sorry.”

He waved it off. “Why are you apologizing? If I really wanted to, I could’ve done so many things to you! It was my decision to let you get away with it. So there will be no apologizing.”

She winced, but seemed to understand that he was trying to be nice and just nodded. “I-I-I-I…” Tilting his head, Moon placed a hand under her chin and lifted her face so he could see the tears running down her face. They were like little stars being birthed from her eyes, beautiful and mystifying, just like her…

“There’s a lot of things you haven’t told me,” he said carefully, pondering his words. “But that’s okay! You don’t even know me.” Moon shrugged. “It would be weird for you to tell me your whole life’s story, and I don’t care to hear it right now. This is supposed to be fun, Miss! You can tell me some other time, okay? Or you don’t have to. After tonight, you can forget about me completely. I can’t say I don’t mind one way or the other, though.”

Blushing, she suddenly stopped, and Moon almost tripped over her, steadying himself at the last minute while not completely sure she had even noticed his error. She ran a finger along the back of his hand, tracing each line of his dark skin as she tried desperately to think of what to say. Eventually, all she said was, “L-L-L-Lilac.” Seeing the quizzicle expression on his face, she blushed even more. “Moon, that’s my name.”

He grinned. “Beautiful, just like you,” he said, spinning her, and as they continued moving around the dance floor, all he could do was watch her as she put words together in her head. It was cute.

“M-Moon, why do you trust me? You said you knew I could’ve l-lied. How c-c-come you know I’m not lying right now?”

He grinned again, laughing. “For the third time! I don’t know!”

And as they spun and twirled and danced, Lilac whispered something only Moon could hear, smiling up at him as she said, “I-I w-want to tell you, Moon.”

And so if you looked hard enough two days after, perhaps you could find the hidden celebrity and the normal girl laughing and chatting at the cafe down the street.