Berlin's POV

I curl my finger around the cool metal making up the trigger. I close my eyes and bit the inside of my lip. My chest rises and falls with a deep breath to calm my nerves.

In one smooth motion, I stand from my hiding place, turn around and squeeze the trigger. My opponent falls to the ground as the life drains from within him. The realization of taking someone's life hits me, but has no effect. A life like mine makes you immune to these things.

I put a finger against my earpiece and hiss, "Where are you?"

"I'm waiting for you on the roof," the static masked voice of my sister says back.

I keep my gun ready to fire as I make my way to the emergency stairwell. The only sound is the soft tap of my shoes against the concrete floor. I pull the metal door open, revealing the pathway to my sister. Each step is a gentle echo.

I instinctively duck when a gun shot rings through my ears. I fire one shot above me and the body falls over the railing and to bottom of the spiral stairs. I continue up the stairs with no trouble to test me. I fling the door to the roof open and freeze.

There were five men on the roof, all dressed in black. Four of them had their guns pointed at me and the last one was holding a knife to my sister's throat. Her eyes were not filled with the fear that her life could end at any moment, but with the cold hatred she held for them and the injustices they have committed.

"Drop the gun," the man to the far right ordered. They lower their guns, but not their guard.

I place the gun at my feet and hold my hands in the air to show my obedience. My breath is shaky with worry for my sister and the possibilities to make it out alive.

"Kick the gun over here." Another possible escape plan gone.

Instead of a light kick to send the pistol skidding over to him, I kick it so it flies up in the air. The gun sails through the air and into my sisters hand. She shoves it into the side of the man behind her and fires before he can react. I let the blade hidden in my sleeve slide down into my palm. I chuck it to the side where it buries itself in my target's neck. I drop to my stomach when I hear a series if three gunshots, followed by silence.

"CUT!" The director shouts. "That's all for today folks!"

There's a few scattered grumbles as everyone clears the set. Kris and I head back to the trailers that were set up as dressing rooms.

"Minecon is only a week away," Kris states with a giddy smile.

"Only one week until I see my Benja."

She rolls her eyes at me, "You know Jason is where it's at."

I roll my eyes back at her and walk through the doorway to my makeshift change room. I swap out of the costume I was given and into a much comfier pair of black leggings and a loose sweater.

I quickly turn on my phone to see if I got any texts or anything, but it was blank. No notifications obscured the photograph that made up my lock screen. It was a picture of Kris and I with our best friend Ian. The three of us all wore a cheerful smile even though it was taken the day he left.

Ever since then, Kris and I have watched every single one of his YouTube videos. We would laugh until we got cramps from when he referenced one of our inside jokes. I don't think we ever made it through a video without breaking a smile. Whether is was because we were laughing or just happy to see him, we would look forward to every video.

That's how we were introduced to the rest of TeamCrafted. I became quite the fangirl for BajanCanadian or Mitch, while Kris had a thing for Jason aka MinecraftUniverse.

And from there we were lead to Minecon tickets, with two hopes in mind. One, reuniting with an old friend. Two, TeamCrafted was going to be there!

"Berlin! Hurry up!" I hear my sister yell, muffled by the door.

"Coming!" I yell back. I grab my things and head out the door.

My sister and I barely start walking when we see a bright flash. Followed my many more. The paparazzi snaps a photo every chance they get. Reporters asking questions and fans wanting autographs, blur into one load roar of a crowd. I scribble out my initials on a few pictures and then ignore the rest of them.

Sure, having fans was cool and all, but after awhile it's down right annoying. Cameras are always waiting to catch you at a bad time. Every bit of news about you spreads like wildfire. You can't be seen wearing the same outfit twice or people will get the wrong idea. You have to keep on a mask of cosmetics to stop the media from catching what you truly look like. You're given an image that you have to go out of your way to break.

A pair of eighteen year old twins, living every other eighteen year old's dream. My dream is to be normal. Any hot guy we meet is either in it for our fame and money, or a snobby actor with a stick up his a**. It's next to impossible to find someone that loves you for you. All I want, is for someone to treat me like a normal person.

New start to the story enjoy meh peeps!