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REND
2.3

2.3

Although Deen and I volunteered to try and get close to Bianca—and I think Deen had a pretty good shot of making friends with her; better than Myra for sure—Dario was still worried there might be no opportunity to meet her in the first place.

Johann found the hotel she was staying in because some cops had escorted her there when she arrived in the city; special favor from the mayor was the rumor. The rest of the team tried to stake out the hotel for the next couple of days, but they didn’t have the free time to do it round the clock, and they wouldn’t even know if Bianca left the hotel in a heavily tinted car anyway; she was a celebrity and surely had experience avoiding paparazzi.

Fate, however, was on our side when we, or rather Reo, found out that Bianca decided to shoot her stay here in the city for an episode of Bianca’s Travel Diary. It included visiting various nightclubs, bars, trendy places boasted by La Esperanza.

We should just pick the right place.

“What's this ‘Olympus Mons’?” I said, scrolling through Bianca’s website on my phone. She picked the places where she would visit from the suggestions of her fans and put up a schedule online so her fans could see her.

“That’s the nightclub in the basement of Mars Hotel,” Deen said. We were hanging out at the cafeteria of Cresthorne early in the morning. As expected, there was no one else here, and hopefully, no more suiciding people would suddenly appear. It was the perfect place to sit down and plan. “I’ve been there twice, maybe six out of ten. Mixed style of vintage and modern. Not for me.”

“It’s not one of those exclusive places with bouncers at the entrance?”

“Nope. It’s really pricey though. And Bianca’s going there at night, right? That place is going to be packed. I doubt we could get in.”

“How about this place, ‘Eve’?”

“Eve is very exclusive. I’m surprised they’re going to let her film. You need to be invited by someone who’s a regular there.” Deen drank coffee from her tumbler and shrugged. “I don’t know anyone who has been there. Maybe sis does? Not sure.”

“I’m not familiar with these places,” I said, handing her my phone.

“Wow, she’s going to a lot of clubs and bars here. How about we cross off the places she’ll be going at night? They’ll be surely full of people and we’ll have a hard time trying to get close to her.”

“Okay, afternoon then. It’s annoying she keeps on changing her schedule for the day.”

‘Wait, she has a new post. ‘Arthouria Infinity’…Oh! I know this one. It’s on top of the Arthouria Hotel. And she’s going there this afternoon.”

“We got a shot with that one?”

“Maybe? It’s a rooftop bar of a five-star hotel so it's pretty expensive. The upside is we don’t need to be on a reserved list to get in.” Deen took out her phone and started texting. “I’m going to tell the others about this. We go there after class. I think we can have our lunch there—”

“Lunch with drinks?”

Deen laughed. “Yeah. If we get there early, we’ll already have a spot to relax. And we’ll just wait for her.”

“Cool. Any ideas on how to start the conversation with her?”

“That I don’t know.”

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Ramello still hadn't come back to class. I heard he was already out of the hospital and spending several days at home to recover. He hadn’t attempted to contact me, so I assumed he didn’t remember we were together before he got pummeled. If everything worked out, he wouldn’t remember anything connected to me.

After class, Deen helped me fix up a feeble attempt at a disguise. I wore a wig and she styled me with heavier makeup than usual that practically turned me into a different person. I was so used to wearing light makeup that I was surprised with Deen's handiwork. Bianca didn't know who I was anyway, so I felt this was unnecessary. What were the chances the 2Ms sent people to watch her? They wouldn't bother. If they did have people trailing her, what was the likelihood one of them knew my face? The guy who did probably got killed by yours truly at the docks.

I still had no clue why the 2Ms targeted me or what they wanted with me, and that made me a tiny bit apprehensive with getting close to a prospective client of theirs. But the faster the 2Ms were brought down, the sooner I'd have peace of mind and not be cautious of another kidnapping.

The destruction of their base at the docks and the death of many of their men might've given the 2Ms a pause on whatever they planned to do with me. I had time to try and find out what the fuck was up with them.

Deen drove us to our meeting place, a coffee shop a couple of blocks away from Arthouria Hotel. Everett and Reo were already there. They were the only ones available at such short notice.

"Hi, girls," Reo said, removing his sunglasses when we entered the cafe.

"Shades indoors?" Deen said.

"I was going for a spy...mission...uh...undercover look. You get what I mean."

"You just look more suspicious," Everett said.

We discussed our plan, which was basically we try to make friends with Bianca...just on the fly.

We sucked.

There was no actual concrete plan beyond Deen having common friends with Bianca. Reo and Everett were going to be backup if something went wrong. But what could the two of them do if the mission went downhill?

“Are you going to use your fairy?” I asked in a whisper to Reo.

“No, it’s too far,” he said. “Way too far for me to maintain the connection with my fairy. The bar is at the top of the hotel, I'll be at street level."

"Can't you find a place inside the hotel?"

"I refuse to kneel for hours inside a handicapped bathroom stall. It’s too easy to get caught.”

"How about I book a room?" Deen said.

"That's too expensive," I said. From Deen's expression, I could tell she didn't care about costs. "And we'll leave a record when we use your credit card."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"You're right. Better not do it."

“We’ll be here outside,” Everett said. “Don’t worry. Just call us and we'll be there.”

"As fast as the elevator could take us from the ground floor to the top," Reo said with a laugh.

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The open-air bar of Arthouria was bordered by an infinity pool instead of the usual pool in the middle with the lounge chairs at the sides. It had a very chic design and offered an unmatched view of the city, the other skyscrapers bowing before it. The price point matched the luxury they afforded their customers. They charged a cover just to get in, and the prices of the food and drinks were so expensive they weren’t even written on the menu.

The sort of people who didn’t care what was on their bill came here.

The sort of people like Deen.

Sometimes, I pitied guys taking us girls out on dates. Society placed such a huge burden on them to pay the bill, and I wouldn’t wish paying the bill of this place on my worst enemy.

It was a weekday afternoon, right after lunchtime, however, there were way more people here than we expected, especially given the ridiculous prices. Bianca was clearly the reason for that. Her crew was already on-site, setting up stuff, and after half an hour Bianca herself showed up with her two bodyguards, Zachary and Xazary.

I wasn’t a drinker. I just stretched the drink Deen ordered for me while we watched Bianca shoot her show. Rays of the Sun was the name of the drink, I think. I don't like it. What kind of person put spices in their drink? Christopher Columbus didn’t accidentally discover America and kill the natives while looking for the spice islands of Asia just for spice to be put in drinks.

After her shooting, Bianca sat down on a table away from everyone else. To my surprise, her bodyguards called her fans to form a line for autographs. I thought she was a bitchy type of person that only had a pleasant personality in front of the camera but was a total primadonna in real life.

Sorry for assuming the worst in people, I thought sarcastically.

“Should we go too?” Deen asked.

“She barely spends time talking to them. Just a picture and autograph. She's probably rushing to get to the next location. Want an autograph to give to Reo?”

“We didn’t think this through.” Deen's brows furrowed.

I chewed on my tongue, thinking of a plan. We could go up to her and mention the rich people friends of Deen which she may know. Still, that didn’t mean she'd stay and chat with us. Deen was right. We didn't think this through.

Deen stood up. “I’m going to line up too.”

I held her hand. “Wait.” I checked around to see if there was anything I could use. Something sharp. There! One of Bianca's crew was using a cutter to open a box of what I assumed were souvenirs for her fans. It looked like a stationary cutter where you could break off the end of the blade when it became too dull. I pulled Deen down and whispered, “Wait here for me. I'll be gone for just a minute. Think of a story for Bianca or something. We go when she’s meeting with her last fan on the line.”

“What?” Deen said. “You have a plan?”

“Trust me on this.”

She looked confused but nodded.

I walked to the employee with the cutter. “Excuse me, miss?”

“Hi, ma’am, are you here for the free shirts? We give them after you have met with Miss Bianca. We only have limited stocks though, but we’ll try to give one to everyone. Kindly form a line there.” She pointed at the line by the poolside snaking to Bianca’s table. Bianca was posing with a group of fans for a picture.

“Oh, I'm going to line up later. I'm just wondering if I can borrow your cutter for a minute?”

“Uh…”

“It'll be quick, promise. I just want to cut a stationary into a shape before I have it signed by Bianca.” I grabbed the cutter from her hands when I saw her hesitate. “Thank you very much! Just a sec.” I walked away before she could complain.

As soon as I turned my back to her, I pushed up the blade of the cutter. Next, I removed the back portion. The cap at the end could be used to remove the end of the blade that has dulled, revealing the next fresh sharp edge. I slotted the blade into the slit of the cap and in one swift motion, broke the blade. The small blade went into my pocket. I assembled the cutter back together and gave it to the assistant who came running after me. I mumbled an apology and went to find Deen.

“I'm back."

“Now will you tell me your plan?" Deen said. "What were you doing over there?”

I explained it to her as we waited for the line of fans to end. Deen wasn’t a hundred percent on board with it, but couldn't suggest any alternative.

Bianca was all smiles when she greeted us. She was so good at making a face that I couldn’t tell whether she was faking it or not. “Do you guys want to take a pic?” she said, noticing we didn’t bring anything she could write on like her other fans.

“We saw you at the party last time,” I said. Bianca raised her brow. I nudged Deen.

“Yes, we've met before,” Deen said a bit too shakily. She wasn’t lying though; she really did see Bianca at the party she attended the night I experimented drinking my blood. Deen composed herself and explained to Bianca who she was and when they met.

Bianca, without missing a stride, talked to Deen like they were long-lost friends, recounting the party. Deen could only keep up the conversation for so long. Bianca would eventually leave and go to her next scheduled shooting.

Time for me to butt in. “Deen here really wanted to meet you for a different reason though. I mean different from the one you're thinking. This won’t take too much of your time if we can talk a bit...”

“Wait, who are you again?” Bianca said to me. I hadn’t introduced myself to her. “Were you even there at the party?” she asked, mildly annoyed.

“Yeah, but I was just at the sides. I’m Deen’s sort of plus-one wherever she goes. No, not in a relationship sense, we’re both straight. I meant that I’m the one who knows her secret.”

Deen said, “I know we’re, erm, forbidden from knowing about each other, but I very much want to be friends with someone like me.”

“Like you?” Bianca said. Xazary who was standing beside her approached us with her hand out, ready to shoo us away. We probably looked like crazed fans at that moment.

I took Deen’s hand, held it on the table, and took out the blade I nicked earlier. Xazary’s hand, gloved in black, and a few inches away from us, started to vibrate. Gold lines glowed beneath the leather, burning through it. We were a few seconds from having our faces blown off, which would admittedly make a pretty epic episode of Bianca’s Travel Diary, probably the best episode to date, but I’d rather that it wouldn’t go that way.

“Please take a look,” I said, as I cut deep into Deen’s palm.

Xazary was about to lunge at us.

“Stop,” Bianca said, her voice curt and commanding authority. It was just one word but it was as if a different person spoke compared to the amiable, socialite celebrity host we were talking to a moment ago. Xazary withdrew her hand, her glove still smoldering. Hints of silver machinery showed through the holes.

Blood spurted out of the cut on Deen’s palm, then the wound quickly healed and disappeared. I cut it deep enough that the unnatural healing of the wound was observable.

“She’s very squeamish about it,” I said. “So she told me to cut it. I know about Deen’s secret of being a…um.”

“A member of the you-know-what club,” Deen continued. “I’ve heard rumors you were in town because you planned on becoming a…member…too. Our identities are kept secret from each other and the only ones who know, besides you-know-who, are the people who help us with our daily lives. Obviously, they have to know. Like my best friend here.”

“But Deen also wants to be friends with someone like her,” I said. “I had to force her to do this. We're very sorry we had to do it in such a creepy way.”

Xazary stooped down and whispered to Bianca’s ear. A fleeting look of irritation swept through Bianca’s beautiful face. She waved Xazary away. “Can’t you see I’m talking to my friends? Move the schedule of the next place, I don’t care what you do, that’s not my problem. Call the waiter, let’s have something to eat for my newfound friends.”

I smirked inwardly. I guessed right. Bianca was like me.

But she was a novice at this game. You don’t break your face under any circumstance, you stupid bitch. This was the reason for Rule #7. Someone like you might notice who you were, and at that point, you've already lost.