Chapter 1

Santa Monica Pier

June 12th, 2004

Claude Duchamp, a 21-year-old French-born contortionist, should have been the happiest man in the world. On vacation from the Shanghai Academy of the Performing Arts, he got a job hosting a flexibility class in Los Angeles. He wasn't proud of how he got the job, but he managed to make the class his own. The student body of his class consisted mainly of cute girls of his age or slightly younger, perfect for someone as girl-crazy as him. In fact, he had even fallen in love with one of his pupils.

And therein laid the problem. The girl in question, a young Hispanic lady named Alex Vasquez, had indirectly gotten him into trouble only within the previous week. As it turned out, she was a secret agent for a freelance defense group known as WOOHP, the World Organization of Human Protection. This unit had apparently been annexed by yet another freelance defense group, the Delta Defense Alliance, and expanded its operations. Three days before, Claude went on a date with Alex only to be captured and dragged to the other side of the country. The two were successfully rescued, with no losses, by other agents from WOOHP and Delta. After the ordeal, he, Alex, and the three agents who rescued them became the best of friends.

Now all of that was in the past, and after having taught one of his classes just that morning, Claude was waiting at a smoothie stand on Santa Monica Pier for Alex to arrive for yet another date – one that would hopefully not be interrupted by enemy action. However, it was fifteen minutes past their agreed-upon time, and there was still no sign of her. The only other person sitting nearby was a different girl, not of Alex's clique. She had medium-length brown hair in a ponytail, and wore a ratty-looking outfit with her long flannel shirt extending down her jeans like a miniskirt. Claude thought he recognized her, but at first could not think of where he had seen her last.

Still, she seemed like a nice girl. She opened the conversation by asking him, "I've seen you around. Claude Duchamp, huh?"

"Yup, you're talking to him," he said half-interestedly. "And you are?"

"Rosie. Rosie Galliano. I'm not from around here; I used to live in Philadelphia until just a while ago."

"Me, too! Only I started college in China, and I'm on summer vacation now. It's no ordinary school either, it's the…" Claude took a moment to recall the full name of his school. "…Shanghai Academy of the Performing Arts. A circus school, you could say."

She cracked a smile, as did Claude. "That is so awesome! Say, I must have seen you around too; don't you teach that…"

"Ah, oui, the… um, flexibility class? The one and the same! So what, are you a student or something?"

"Oh, um, yes! You probably haven't noticed me, judging by the questions you just asked me. Plus, you know, I'm not that good."

"Don't be ashamed of that! You don't have to be at my level to be proud of yourself!"

Rosie smiled. Noticing that Claude did not return the favor, she asked, "So, what's got you down?"

"Three things. One, I have to wait until next week to start another of my classes." Claude couldn't help but giggle as he said this. "Two, I've been waiting fifteen minutes for a date."

"So who's the lucky girl?"

"Thank you. Well, she's a hot little one, African – no wait, Hispanic."

"Would that be her over there?" Rosie pointed to a group of three girls on inline roller skates, headed their way. One of them was indeed Alex. The other two were Caucasian girls of about her age. One of them, Clover Ewing, had medium-length blonde hair; the other, Samantha Simpson, had long red hair. Their clothes and gear were colored in different schemes for each of the girls; Clover's was sky blue, Sam's was lime green, and Alex's was hot pink. Each of these colors, all accented with white, highlighted their eyes (blue, green, and brown, respectively).

Clover, Sam, and Alex all crowded around Claude and put a hand on his shoulders. At that point, he introduced them all to the new friend he had just made. "Mes amis, this is Rosie Galliano."

Rosie gave a subtle wave to the three girls and told them, "So Claude's not feeling so good, apparently, and he's been telling me why. One, he just came back from teaching his flexibility class and can't wait to do it again next week. He must really like it."

"Got that right."

"Two, he was waiting for you–" she motioned to Alex – "so I guess that doesn't count. Now, was there a third reason you're so down today?"

"You don't want to hear it; it's silly."

"Aw, come on, Claude!" Clover pressed playfully.

"Alright, if you really want to hear it…" Claude sighed to build up his emotional strength. "I want to check out the beach scene here, but I don't have any good swimsuits. See… I only wear speedos."

The reaction from Claude's friends was better than he had feared. Rosie tried to hold back a snicker, but Alex and Clover swooned, and Sam simply asked, "How come?"

"Hm, I don't know, actually."

"Must be a French thing?"

"Part of it, I'm sure. They do feel good, but just try to tell that to everyone in this country. Man, I could write a book on things that I think are wrong with America, but it's all little stuff, nothing serious. The freedom and all that, I can go for, don't get me wrong."

"I take it you've been called gay a lot?"

"You couldn't imagine. If it wasn't for the support of my brother, I'd have never survived school back in Philadelphia."

"You have a brother?" asked Alex.

"Yeah, step-brother… I really can't tell you who it is, though."

"Aw, come on, Claude!" everyone asked him. But Claude simply put up his hand and politely refused to answer. Hastily changing the subject, he asked Alex, "Well then, what are you doing today?"

"We were just going roller skating," she answered. "Want to rent some equipment and join us?"

"Yeah," Clover added flirtingly, "We'd, like, love to have your company."

Silly girl doesn't know I'm into Alex… for the moment anyway, thought Claude. Still, what difference does it make who I'm hitting on? The more the merrier!

Rosie interrupted his thoughts. "Are you looking for a good skate shop? I skateboard, and there's this place just by the pier I started frequenting when I moved here. Come along! You too, girls."

With Rosie's invitation, the three girls left the smoothie bar, followed closely by Claude. The three skaters had to watch their speed so as to accommodate the others who had to walk on foot. But as they passed under the pier, part of one of the columns slid down, revealing the opening to a tunnel, and Clover, Sam, and Alex were sucked inside by some sort of vacuum! Claude and Rosie instinctively braced themselves against the force, but soon Rosie realized what was up, and told Claude, "Duty calls! I think you know enough already; we might not have to brainwa…aaah!" She could not finish her sentence before she, too, was sucked into the tunnel. Once she had disappeared from view, the open panel on the pillar closed up, no longer hinting at anything out of the ordinary.

Claude had indeed learned enough about the girls' true selves to know that this was how they were being summoned by WOOHP. Hence the name they gave to this action: being 'WOOHPed'. But why did the other girl follow them in as well? In the brief time they spent together, was there something she didn't tell him?

Définitevement, he told himself.