The rain fell fast and hard, the drops so large they hit In Hae's eye like tiny fists when she looked up to get a feel for where the moon was. She wiped her eye and cursed. It was too cloudy. She had no sense of the time now. Her phone had run out of batteries while she ran after the Troublemaker. It was the stupidest name, she thought. Couldn't he have been a little more imaginative?
All she knew was the old woman had said he was planning to attack a residential building. An apartment. With a particular target in mind. At 2 a.m. And it would be raining. She'd followed the Troublemaker to this area and lost sight of him, and now she had no idea which way to go. She closed her eyes, honing her senses, trying to get a feel for any fear in the area.
That was the problem with the Troublemaker. He had no remorse, no real emotion. The only time she could sense him nearby was when he he was getting a thrill as he was killing a new victim or robbing a bank or, as was his full time job, crushing another business, growing his firm's monopoly in the energy industry under the banner of green, renewable energy. She didn't know where the energy actually came from, because it was, apparently, renewable. But there was something fishy about the whole operation.
She was shaken from her thoughts by a pang in her chest. She felt the fear just as strongly as whomever was feeling it at this moment, and it was nearby, she could tell. But where. She closed her eyes to get a better sense for the emotion. It pulled her in a particular direction. Down. Was she on top of the very building that the victim was in? Or was it just a child afraid from a nightmare. It was worth the risk. She'd just have to keep her sense reaching for other signs of terror nearby. Her own nervousness kicked in. She could always tell the difference between the feelings that were her own and those of others. What if it was wrong? What if she couldn't save whomever it was.
She went to the roof's door and picked the lock. It was a strong lock too, and it would have taken a less capable person far more time to break it. She, however, unlocked it in a matter of seconds. Inside the quiet stairwell, she could hear the rain pelting the rooftop as the water dripped from her soaked person. Ah, this won't do, she thought. But what else was there, she needed to wear the costume. All black. A ski mask over top of that. She looked like a burglar. But still, it was worth having something to cover up her identity. She wore a bulletproof vest too. It was a double blessing, protecting against bullets and, to a certain extent, knives, and it also covered her breasts and bulked up her figure, making it harder to tell her gender. But still, it was uncomfortable to be so wet.
She crept down the stairs, the fear pulling her toward the 10th floor. The door she was led to was dark, the light beside it broken. She wondered if this was a sign of the Troublemaker coming by. It was locked. This was a different sign. Maybe he wasn't there. But then she heard a bump inside. Quickly and with steady hands, she gently picked the lock and opened the door silently. She was glad the hallway light was out.
The interior was dark as well, save for a dim light coming from the back and to the right. Lightning flashed, illuminating the living room with a plain white couch, bearskin rug (fake, she judged from the entryway hall) and a lamp by the coffee table. It looked clean. A large window, from which the lightning gained entry, made up the far opposite wall. She crept forward once again, letting the light from the back bedroom, she guessed, guide her path. She didn't hear the noise again as she tiptoed. The going was painfully slow, and as she reached the corner she heard a bang. A second bang, and a breaking, like the sound of a lamp falling over and a light bulb shattering. Sure enough,the light that had been guiding her path disappeared.
In Hae jumped, too loudly. Screw it, she thought, running into the room and turning on the lightswitch. Instead of Troublemaker standing over the bed as she expected, In Hae saw someone she'd never seen before with a long frown on the saddest face she'd ever seen standing over the bed. The only thing was, he looked sad but his eyes were shining. Not with tears, but with a glee she'd only seen in Troublemaker's eyes when he was about to do something horrible. She wasn't sensing anything from him though, so it must not be real. Or it must just be what his face looked like. He was standing over a surprised looking man laying in bed. He had on glasses, and a book lay idly on the bed. When the lights switched on, both figures looked over at In Hae.
"Ah, what's this?" The man with the frown said slowly. His voice was breathy and syrupy, like In Hae imagined a frown would sound if it were a noise.
"Where's the Troublemaker?" In Hae kept her voice smooth. She'd learned how to control her own emotions a long time ago. It was the price she paid to hone in her empathic abilities. She felt emotions strongly, and it was too hard to feel her own and others constantly. So she learned to control both. Which is the only reason she was able to feel calm now.
"Yes, he told me to come. We were expecting you."
"How could you be expecting me," In Hae said, more out of skepticism than shock.
"That old woman who came in today, you think she was helping you? She was working for us. Or, rather, we were working with her. She's not really an old woman. Or she's more than an old woman, if you know what I'm saying. But that doesn't really matter in the end, now does it."
"What the hell is going on," the figure on the bed yelled.
"Ah, I couldn't forget about you. We've been looking for you for a long time. Waiting, may be the better word."
"You're so long-winded," In Hae said before rushing at him, bringing her taser gloves out from behind her back and pressing the button on the side of her hand with her thumb in a swift motion. She swiped at the sad man's face, catching him on the cheek and causing him to fall back off the bed.
"You've got a reason to frown now, I figure," she said, jumping up on the bed, the man behind her standing up next to her and picking up a baseball bat she hadn't noticed by the bed.
"You didn't reach for that earlier?"
"I was reading."
"For real?"
"I was into it."
In Hae shut his fear out, as it was distracting her. She didn't need to know more to know it was his fear she was sad man jumped back up. Or rather glided back up. This time, he seemed bigger than before, the cape behind his back growing large and wide as he went to envelop them both. Before he got a chance, In Hae recharged her glove and pressed her hand again into his neck, grabbing the soft skin and sending fissures through the man's body. The man behind her began hitting the sad man's arms, which were stretched out with the cape. The dark figure fell to the ground, twitching, as the man began to beat him on the ground. In Hae winced, feeling some of the pain from the sad man seep into her before she had a chance to control it. "Stop stop."
"What, why?"
"Just stop," she said. As soon as he had, In Hae gasped in relief. Only sometimes did she feel the physical pain from others, but it was usually when the subject she was empathing with associated the physical pain with a traumatic memory or experience. The sad man jumped up and ran through the window, his cape billowing behind him and allowing him to glide into the dark below.
In Hae breathed out, the hot air catching on the mask in front of her face and making the fabric warm as well as moist. She realized in that moment she was still soaking wet and jumped off the bed, turning to face the man in the room. She bowed, as was her custom in such situations.
"I'm sorry for causing such a mess."
"A little mess is the least of my problems right now," the man said. He had blonde hair, dyed, but stylish. His eyes were dark, and, In Hae noticed, he had dimples, which were deep-set in his cheeks as he smiled at her in relief and gratitude. She could feel it inside her own chest and had to refocus to shut it out. It was unnecessary and distracting at this point.
It struck In Hae as odd that Troublemaker would go to so much trouble to have this man assassinated in a complicated plot. And why drag her here? To make a point? That would be like him. They'd been looking for him for a long time. Was "they" just Troublemaker and the sad man? And the old woman, apparently. Or were there more?
"Excuse me but, do you have any idea why they would be looking for you?" She was hyper conscious of her wet clothes.
He shook his head before his eyes glanced at her dripping figure. "Would you like to change or dry off or something? I'm Namjoon, by the way."
"Thank you, but no," she said. She ignored his introduction, not offering her own name. Perhaps the villains had wanted her to stay close to this person to take them both out at the same time. But either way, she couldn't very well leave him to himself. Based on what the sad man had said, Namjoon wouldn't be left alone for long.
"I'll be leaving then," she said, heading toward the door to the bedroom.
"Don't leave, please," he called, trying to keep the panic from his voice. In Hae could feel his anxiety knocking on her chest. She didn't open the door and chose to shut it out instead.
"They won't try again tonight. It's not the troublemaker's modus operandi. He likes style and flourish, and trying again the same night after an unsuccessful attempt is something he'd consider tacky, even if he sends a henchmen to do the job."
"Still," Namjoon hesitated. "Could you stay? You don't have to be in the could wait in the living room or dry off in the bathroom. Whatever you want."
In Hae considered him through her mask, her eyes glued to his form. Because her mask had opaque coverings over the eyes, Namjoon was looking more at her forehead than her eyes, though she could see him searching the mask's face for where her eyes might actually be.
"I'll look around," she said, leaving the room.
"Wait a second," he jumped out the bed awkwardly, hopping on one foot as he landed near the shattered glass from the lamp. He hopped to a dresser in the corner and searched through the drawers, bringing out a folded, crisp white undershirt and sweatpants, holding them out to her.
"I promise I won't try to see your face if you change into these to dry off." In Hae grabbed them from him and left the room, closing the door behind her. Back out in the living room, she decided against turning on the lights and threw the clothes on the couch. Spotting a charger in the wall by the couch, she pulled out her damp phone, shaking it a few times, and plugged it in. She walked back to where she'd thrown the clothes, ignoring them and instead picking up the pile of mail that had been put sloppily on the table.
"He must have a maid or something come in every so often," she thought. "The place is too spotless, considering how carelessly the mail was put on the table."
She looked through. Subscription renewal reminders for Rolling Stone, a bill, and a postcard from someone named Jeon Jungkook. One of the envelopes caught her eye. It had been opened already, torn carelessly, the letter read and placed back inside. She pulled it out and began reading it.
The letter detailed the lab results from Namjoon's visit to the hospital earlier that month.
"The results for your test were inconclusive. An abnormality in the thyroid was detected, suggesting hyperactivity, but you tested negative for hypothyroidism based on your symptoms. No abnormality in your vision was found, despite complaints of intermittent headaches and blurred vision. More testing is needed to determine malformation in parietal lobe. Contact our offices to consult about a CAT scan for more conclusive results."
So they think there's something going on in his brain, In Hae thought. Though what the thyroid had to do with it, she couldn't fathom. She'd dropped out of med school after the symptoms of her empathic abilities became too severe for her to control enough to concentrate on her studies, but from what she could remember, she couldn't think of anything that might cause the symptoms she was seeing described in the letter. She replaced the paper in the envelope and looked around. It was clear she wouldn't be able to leave this person on his own. Another attack was certain, and until she figured out why they seemed to want him gone, she would need to follow him closely. Lightning flashed again, a low rumble, far off, following after. The flash illuminated the open kitchen, shining black marble surfaces and floor tiles against pristine white walls. A calendar hung on the black refrigerator. She lifted the page to the right month. April. The picture for that month was a yellow cartoon bear with a large head standing over a flower with an umbrella. A few items were scribbled on the upcoming dates, some illegible. One, tomorrow, was conveniently written large and neat. "11 a.m. Charlie's Place."
Nothing else stood out. Checking back at her phone, she turned it on. Ten percent battery. It must be a speed-charger, she thought gratefully. She unplugged it and looked to the left of the kitchen. Three black doors stood at the end of a short hallway, one of which was open. In Hae could just make out the bathroom sink through this doorway in the dark. Creeping closer, she opened one door. A closet. The final door creaked open, and she peaked her head in, fumbling for the light switch. It looked like a makeshift studio, a series of mics strewn about the small room and a large, three-monitor computer at the far end facing away from the door in the windowless room. Random bear figurines lined the shelves in the room, as well as cd's, awards and lots of books. Philosophy, history, language, fiction, biographies. This man liked to read. A cork board against the wall next to a large whiteboard caught her eye. Business cards, notes and other papers were pinned onto it. One caught her eye. "Charlie's Place," it read. A restaurant downtown. Another card caught her attention. "Kim Namjoon." Ah, what is it you do, she thought, grabbing the card. Producer, lyricist and rapper. In Hae couldn't see why a group of people would want to annihilate an artist. It couldn't be that. She put the card in her phone case, planning to input the number later.
At that moment, her phone lit up.
"I heard a rumor and I need to meet with you. Auntie's house. Three hours." It was signed Agust D. Could he seriously just stick to one phone number and stop being so dramatic, In Hae mumbled. She turned to leave the room, confident she could find him again tomorrow. When she walked out of the room, she bumped into Namjoon's chest.
"How long were you standing there," she said, jumping back.
"Only just now." He looked at the clothes on the couch. "Are you going to leave?"
She nodded. "Don't worry. Like I said, they won't be back tonight. I need you to think about why they might be after you."
"How will I know how to contact you if I figure it out or if they come back? What should I do? I can't just sit around."
"You'll figure out a way to contact me. I know a lot of things. I see a lot of things. And anyway," she tapped her temple with her pointer finger twice, then reached up to his temple and tapped it twice with the same fingers. "You're smart. They won't get you that easy."
Namjoon smiled nervously and unconvincingly, sighing. "Life is uncertainty anyway, I guess."
In Hae smiled, despite herself, at this perspective. She started to walk for the door before thinking better of it and walking toward the window, opening it, and jumping out. For effect. She hated this option, the panic rising in her chest as the wind cut through her damp clothes, the rain falling with her as she flew past the ninth and eighth floors. She opened her arms, letting the folds of dark fabric hidden underneath catch against the wind beneath her as she used the makeshift gliders to slow her path. With one hand, she took a hook from her belt and, with expert timing, latched it to a window sill as it passed by. The force of the stop nearly pulled her arm out of its socket, but she held on, wincing.
She breathed out as her body got over the shock of the force. Sloppy, she chastised herself wordlessly. Using the length of thin, strong rope she had attached to the hook as part of the compact repelling device attached to her belt, she let herself down as many floors as she could reach, putting her feet on the nearest window sill and making sure she was on securely before remotely retracting the hook's claws and bringing it down soundlessly toward her with a snap like a tape measurer. She repeated the process from her current location until she was safely on the ground. She looked around before slipping into an alleyway and sprinting from shadow to shadow.
In this way, she found herself in front of a red door in an alley. The rain had stopped, and light from a single bulb above the door cast glimmery reflections in the puddles scattered on the ground between the old brick buildings. She pressed her palm against the door, breathing raggedly. Her limbs were shaking, her shoulder on fire from her earlier miscalculation. She closed her eyes. Next time, don't be so eager to use the hook before you've slowed down a bit, she thought. She rubbed her shoulder with her good arm. It would likely need to be iced, but that would have to wait. She rapped on the door, the sharp sound stabbing her ears against the muted noise of traffic nearby and the steamy warm of after-rain. A moment passed before she heard a whir. Looking up, In Hae waved at the dark camera in the corner, barely visible in the shadows. Soon after, the door swung open enough for her to come through.
Inside, she was ushered into a door on the side by a small, old woman. Auntie. In Hae had met her on many occasions. But this time, In Hae couldn't help thinking of the the unassuming elderly woman who gave her the tip about Troublemaker, and distrust welled up inside her. The woman eyed her as she brought her into a small room with a yellow velvet couch on a black and white marble floor. It was the only furniture in the room, save for a row of wooden lockers lining the wall and a series of showers on either side of the room. The old woman handed her a towel and pointed at one of the showers. In Hae grabbed the towel, too harshly, and followed her gesture, closing the curtain and turning on the water spout, letting it grow burning hot as she removed the dark clothes and bulletproof vest.
The hot water put goosebumps on her skin as it beat down on her, and she let out an involuntary sigh. As she washed the night's grit from her body, the sweat and grime of exertion, her mind turned to dimples and blond hair. How could you be so immersed in reading you couldn't realize a tall man had entered your room? In Hae smiled, closing her eyes and remembering his voice when he asked her to stay. When she'd bumped into him coming out of his studio, she smelled his cologne. Old Spice, or something similar. A crisp, deep smell.
A warm, thick feeling, like Kahlua, seeped from a spot in her chest into her limbs and stomach, causing her to swallow and hold her throat. It wasn't unpleasant, but she wasn't sure what it was or where it was coming from. Hopefully she wasn't picking it up from that Auntie. That would be uncomfortable. She focused to plug the figurative hole from which the feeling was coming, but despite her best efforts, a residue was left, like it had spilled and puddles were left or like a leaky faucet. This was new, she thought. She finished her shower, trying to ignore any thoughts that might come to her mind and the feeling that wouldn't quite go away.
A robe had been left for her draped over the couch. She stared at it, clutching the large, soft towel around herself, before grabbing the robe and pushing her arms through, tying the sash in a loose knot and stepping into the fuzzy white house slippers placed neatly under the couch. In Hae walked to a door on the side of the room by the lockers and opened it, stepping through into a comfortable looking living room. It was filled with antiques, a strange decorative choice for someone like Agust D. She had never questioned it. A large fish tank filled with tropical colors glowed softly underneath a mantle where a fireplace might otherwise have sat. The only thing out of character in the room was a whole book shelf taken up with comic books and Star Wars paraphernalia.
Agust was standing with his back to her, the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt rolled up to the elbows as he poured tea into two cups, dropping two sugars in one and pouring milk in the other delicately. In Hae closed the door, and he looked back over his shoulder, his eyes stopping on her abruptly as he saw her walking onto the carpet. As he kept his gaze glued to her, In Hae felt a stab of lust coming from him. She looked down at the carpet, scratching her neck and clearing her throat.
"Ah, I apologize. It's been awhile, and I'm always thrown a bit when we meet." He grinned slightly, smoothly, and motioned to a seat nearby as he stirred the two drinks with a small spoon. She sunk into the overstuffed couch, accepting the cup, the one with milk only, from him as he handed it to her before taking a seat himself and picking up his tea.
"What's this rumor," In Hae said, setting the cup in her lap and wrapping her hands around it, letting her palms absorb the warmth rather than take a sip.
"Always straight to the point," Agust leaned back in his seat, sipping his tea and looking at her over the top of his cup. "Is that a habit or is it just with me?"
"It's been a bit of a long day."
Agust nodded, taking another sip before holding the cup steady in one hand and raising his other hand, making a stirring motion with his finger over the steaming liquid. The tea began to swirl with his finger, though he wasn't actually touching it. Show off, In Hae thought.
"I've heard through my network there may be something, or someone, we need to be on the lookout for. A potentially powerful deviant. One the other side is looking for."
Deviant was Agust's name for people like In Hae and himself. People who exhibited heightened abilities. For her, empathy was heightened to extreme heights. For him, it was his interaction with water molecules. Humans have a natural relationship with water, absorbing from the environment and expelling it in forms like sweat or spit. But he could do so much more, moving large bodies from great distances if he liked. In Hae knew of people who could do anything from pinpointing the exact cause and location of a smell to being able to control their hair growth at will. Sometimes the deviation was more dangerous, like the inability to control the force of one's breath and causing buildings to fall down or heightened, uncontrollable physical strength. She heard of one person whose metabolism was so fast she had to eat constantly or she'd waste away. According to the rumor, the person had been killed by the Thai government because she was depleting resources.
Some lived their lives normally, others used their heightened senses to help others, whether through traditional fields or, like In Hae, in the shadows. Others used their senses for personal gain. It was like something out of comic books or Hollywood, In Hae thought.
"Who is this 'powerful deviant?'" In Hae quizzed, looking blankly at Agust.
"We don't know yet. Apparently, this person's deviation hasn't surfaced yet. As you know, the abnormality often doesn't appear until the person has reached 21, when their brains are normally supposed to reach full development. For deviants, their brains don't stop. So deviations may begin to appear as early as 21 or 22 as they continue this prolonged development."
In Hae sat without responding. She knew this. It was unnecessary to reiterate what she already knew. She was the one who'd written the speculative study on the subject. She wasn't taken seriously by most scholars and scientiests, though some found it amusing and imaginative.
That's how she'd met Agust. It had been a month since it had been published in any scientific journal before he contacted her, asking to get dinner and discuss. Ever since, she'd been working with him to keep some semblance of order in the city against other deviants while he worked to make a file of the different deviants. Classic Marvel, except that it was real. And Agust was no scientist. She didn't know exactly what he was. He seemed to have a lot of wealth and no public life. But he was the only one she'd been able to talk with about the deviations, aside from those she met randomly in everyday life. Even then, the topic was taboo, an unspoken understanding between two deviants that brought a sense of comfort.
"Anyway," he continued. "We need to be on the lookout. We need to find this person before your friend the Troublemaker gets to him first and either kills him as a threat or recruits him, guiding him in the wrong direction."
"It could be a woman," In Hae said, finally taking a sip of the tea.
"It could. I got an alert from a city hospital. A friend I know there. He has an amazing deviation. Allows him to create a 3-dimensional model of the inside of a patient's body based on his heightened spatial memory and processing abilities. He's saved many people that way. Anyway, he alerts me if anybody comes in complaining of strange symptoms. He hasn't been able to get ahold of the files yet, but a patient came through their doors last month complaining of blurred vision, headaches, an increased appetite but no weight gain, difficulty sleeping. It was a man. That's all my contact knew."
The image of Namjoon's nervous smile flashed in In Hae's head. She thought it best not to mention what had happened that night. Not yet.
"You want me to go to the hospital, keep an eye out?"
"Go, see what you can find until my contact hears more and use that wonderful ability of yours to feel out the situation. This person is probably confused and a bit scared, especially as the deviation starts to manifest itself in more concrete ways."
"It's not much to go on."
"No, but it's something. You might pay a visit to your friend the Troublemaker in his offices."
"Are you kidding?"
He eyed her over the cup, looking over her robed form. She kept the anger and discomfort from rising in her stomach. "Only slightly. You might get something from meeting with him. We can't prove anything against him criminally without blowing apart the country's criminal justice system, what with the abnormal methods used to commit the crimes, and I know that frustrates you. But a visit give us an idea what he might be up to or what he might know."
"Why don't I just leave that up to you?"
"Oh he's not interested in meeting me. He's always gotten a thrill out of infuriating you."
In Hae sighed. It was true. But she had better things to do. Like protect this man she was almost positive was the exact deviant they were looking for. Still she kept silent on this point.
"I'll see what I can do," she said, rising from her seat and putting her tea down. "If that's all you need, I should get going."
"You could sleep here tonight," Agust said, putting down his own cup and spreading his legs. In Hae watched him as he moved. He was attractive, she admitted, and influential despite how young he was. But his repeated advances had always annoyed her more than anything else. She wanted to be taken seriously, and this kind of attention certainly didn't make her feel that way.
"As there are no spare bunks or dorms in this facility, I can only assume you mean one thing," she said. "And I'm afraid I'll have to pass. Have a good night." She walked toward the door to the showers, where she'd left her clothes. She felt a hand on her lower back. Agust had silently rushed forward and was guiding her toward a different door.
"Auntie dried your things while we were talking," he said.
"I hope she didn't take anything or put a mic in my clothes," In Hae said, staring forward.
"Now why would you say that about Auntie? What has she done?"
"Nothing, old ladies give me the creeps lately."
He seemed to think that was funny and smiled, opening the door for her and saying goodnight as she passed through. "If you need to contact me, use the usual method?"
In Hae nodded, waving as he closed the door behind her. She breathed out in relief to have been left alone. She was in a dimly-lit hallway, the wooden flooring and white walls covered in black and white photography. Her clothes lay neatly folded on a table in the middle of the hall. The bulletproof vest had been placed with the mask in a large scarf and tied up neatly before being placed in a shopping bag. Anyone outside would think she'd been to a department store. It would be an hour before she got home, she thought as she changed in a room just off the hallway. She wouldn't have much time to sleep before she had to get up again. Groaning at the thought, In Hae took her things and walked out the front door.
The red door from the alleyway was simply one access point to the facility, which was actually made up of a series of row houses connected together, each of which was owned by Agust D. She sighed. It would have been nice to just sleep there, but Agust seldom had free beds available, as they were often taken up by deviants who had lost their jobs due to their symptoms or were simply confused or wished to help Agust's research. And the alternative would force In Hae into closer quarters with Agust than she preferred. Much too close. She sighed, glad to be rid of her mask, and clutched the oversized black sweater, now loose without the armor underneath, closer to her body, walking forward.
It was 8 a.m. when In Hae's body woke up her up. Thirty minutes before her alarm. She groaned, rubbing her hair as she buried her face further into her pillow, inhaling the fabric of her probably dirty pillowcase. She couldn't remember when she actually got home, but she had collapsed on her bed and fallen asleep immediately. She rolled over before a sharp pain wrenched her body into an upright position. She stood up quickly and approached her mirror, ripping off her shirt with the arm that wasn't paining her. The shoulder showed no bruising or deformity. She sighed in relief. At least it wasn't dislocated after all. She wouldn't have been able to move it at all if she had. She judged it was a bad sprain.
"Seriously?" she moaned under her breath. "I have a feeling things are only going to require more physical exertion. Couldn't you have not done this?" She said this last thing to her arm, though she knew it was only herself, not the limb, she could blame. She put on her makeup in the bathroom as best she could, wincing when she moved her arm, and took two ibuprofen tablets, sticking the bottle in her purse before getting dressed.
She was keeping an eye on a man, she considered. She eyed the light blue dress with the flowy, short skirt. Cute? She imagined her walking by him in it, he catching her feminine figure as she passed and unable to look away. In Hae shook her head. She needed to be mobile. And no heals. She couldn't support herself with both arms very well if she tripped with this shoulder. She tossed jeans, shirts, other dresses on the bed before coming back to the blue dress. The skirt wasn't that short, she thought. And if she wore spanx underneath it would be pretty good for mobility. Plus there was no way he would mistake her for the mysterious figure from the night before. The flowy, sky-blue was too different from the bulky, shapeless black she'd been wearing. Not that she'd have to talk to him. It was a good disguise. She chose gray converse sneakers that showed off her ankle to go with it. Perfect, she thought, pleased with herself.
She gently eased a pleather jacket over her shoulders and slung her purse over her arm and headed out. She didn't have to be at Charlie's Place until 11. She suddenly got a craving for tacos.
Why would I want tacos right now, she said. What am I, pregnant? The urge was overwhelming. She sighed at herself before switching directions and heading for the only taco place she knew within a ten minute walk. As she walked, that warm, thick feeling seeped from that same spot in her chest, causing her to walk faster toward the taco shop. What is this, she wondered. It couldn't be that old woman. Too far away.
The feeling grew stronger, spreading through her limbs slowly the closer she got, so by the time she pushed her way through the door of the restaurant, she was having trouble standing. She rushed to a stool at the counter, the mariachi music coming faintly through the speakers above her. She pulled herself up onto the stool, sitting still with her arms on the countertop as she waited for the feeling to fade and tried to focus on blocking it. She had succeeded to a degree when a menu was placed in front of her and someone passed a water under her face. In Hae looked up, surprised.
She saw dimples and blonde hair.
