AMBROSE "KIRK" LEX

Security Office, Illéa Corporation's Angeles HQ, Central District of Angeles City - Monday, May 19th, Year 23XX

Sometimes, Kirk Lex wished to have his sister's job. Maybe he was a masochist or he just needed a change of pace, as the preparations for Valentine's birthday (and thus, the Corporation's birthday) had been giving him incessant migraines for the last two weeks. While he was no stranger to the rush of corporate life, the weeks preceding important events tended to double or triple the number of duties on his shoulders. The number of checks he had to do got bigger by the hour, stress also seemed to start stacking up around every single personnel.

The fact that his sister wasn't above ranting to him through messages didn't help.

Have you done the wire transfer and checked on Counterintelligence and HR to see if they have all the documents on Valentine's guests? - K2

Shouldn't you be the one checking that shit? - K1

You wanna deal with the vultures? You can take them off my hands anytime. - K2

Got your point. - K1

It was with messages like those that Kirk remembered why he preferred to hide behind curtains and let his sister run most of the public interactions. He had never liked to interact with crowds, the company of guns and combat dummies suited him much better while Harker seemed to thrive when she was surrounded, when there was information flowing from every side and flashes made it seem like they were the center of the world. Of course, he knew that even Kerr got tired of the cameras — her nicknames for the media made it clear but, unlike Kirk, she had grown accustomed to it. The only attention Kirk had on a daily basis came from the people he worked with.

Walking down the corridors of the security floor, people stopped just to acknowledge his presence. It wasn't like Kirk was someone who demanded it, but he had enough of a reputation that his colleagues feared and respected him, which made them feel intimidated enough to always say a word when he passed. In the beginning, it irritated Kirk, he didn't like attention and he would have preferred if everyone ignored him; now, he tries his best to ignore them by reviewing all new protocols while making his way to his office.

His office was almost a joke to his sister. Harker didn't understand why he had one when he spent most of his waking hours beside Alaric Schreave — and Kirk knew she was jealous that he had his own space. Although the place was his, Kerr had made it a point to decorate it to her tastes: cream-colored walls, light sofas, and wood furniture. Simple and tasteful, something that could soothe and calm her nerves when working for Valentine became too much; the only indication that the place was Kirk's was his name on the door and the small arsenal he had on display behind his desk. Such a thing had been the source of many disagreements with Kerr when she was decorating — 'All that metal doesn't go with the walls!' — but he had won in the end. The room belonged to him, after all.

Can you swing by the Analysis Dept.? - K2

Why? - K1

The first batch of the internal pre-Selected information just got in. - K2

Are you still stuck with the vultures? - K1

Wouldn't be asking if I wasn't. Plus, Valentine just appeared, so I will take another hour here. - K2

I'll get it. You'll look into them tonight? - K1

Why are you referring to me only? You are pulling this all-nighter with me. - K2

… - K1

You know, Sally from Sales has been asking about you. - K2

See you later. - K1

There was no way he was risking Kerr setting him up with Crazy Sally again. He'd take Valentine and his trashy pick-up lines over Sally; he still remembered how he had to ask for a month-long mission to shake her off his case. Just thinking about that episode made shivers run down his spine, so tending to background checking with Harker didn't seem so bad anymore.

Still, Kirk wondered what had possessed Alaric to pitch the ridiculous idea of a Selection to Valentine. It was like throwing a child into a candy house and telling it not to eat anything; the whole thing screamed disaster and Kirk was not looking forward to the messes he'd have to clean up. He understood what Alaric wanted but Kirk couldn't help but doubt his boss' sanity a little; there were many ways to accomplish what he wanted, so why did he have to choose one with so many implications, possible hazards, and public scrutiny? Kirk and his sister had enough to deal with without the trouble of organizing a competition for Valentine's hand in marriage — not to mention the fact that they'd have to guarantee the safety of all those who passed their screening.

Not to mention the ones that would hit on him and Harker.

Kirk was well-aware that he and his twin could be considered good-looking, that many felt some kind of attraction to them — they had had more than one client of Illéa Corporation trying to get into their pants — as such, he knew that there would be those who'd try their luck. And if that wasn't enough, they still had to keep an eye out for relationships between the ones chosen since any of that would be a breach of the contract they would sign before entering. In Kirk's opinion, the whole event could end up as an R-Rated program before even one week of it was aired and he was not pleased to be the one that had to stop it from happening; he'd rather have the least amount of contact with the Selected (and Valentine) as possible for the duration of the program.

He knew it was vain to hope though. He'd have the most contact with the people coming, being Head of Security for the event.

He'd barely stepped into his office when one of his subordinates barreled in, panting.

"Sir, we have a problem!"

Was peace too much to ask for?

Lex Penthouse, 24th Floor, Silver Palace, Central District of Angeles City - Monday, May 19th, Year 23XX

The number of people signing up to try and win over Valentine Schreave made Kirk wonder if there was something wrong with the neuro updates for some implants. The amount of space he had had to make for the information on the shard that Analysis handed him could have, single-handedly, killed the storage of an inferior pad. He and Harker had been going through the thousands of pages on the strangers, checking and double-checking every single phrase on the reports before deciding to which folder they'd send the person to.

They had two folders: Viable and Nonviable. The second one seemed to be getting bigger by the minute.

"Why do people lie so much? And why the fuck is it that Analysis did such a shitty job on the background research?" Complained Harker. She was seated on the sofa directly across from his, she had a pillow supporting her neck while her legs occupied the rest of the couch.

"You think any background check that wasn't made by you is shitty," retorted Kirk, "And do I need to answer the first question?"

"It was rhetorical, you jerk," mumbled Kerr, "Look at this one."

Kirk looked down to his tablet, the file he received from Kerr was small. Unusually small. Even though the work done by the Analysis Department was not the best, the lack of information on this candidate was disturbing and there was something wrong. The person in the picture was not anything special, their features were average, the information on them was also just a skeleton. The small sections on their life and employment led Kirk to believe that this one was probably involved in gang activity or, at the very least, had an extensive record they didn't want to be found. Other than that, he assumed this one had some netrunning skills or a good netrunner by their side, to be able to hide so much from Illéa's probing.

"I will hold onto this one for some time," said Harker, "What do you think?"

"Do what you want. Just don't forget that by the end of the week, you have to put them on one of the folders."

"Yeah, yeah," said his sister, one hand waving dismissively at him, "This whole program will be a pain. Hopefully, we don't end up choosing a Valentine 2.0."

"Don't jinx it."

Going through the hundreds of thousands of applications was a boring process, mostly because Harker insisted on doing it herself instead of getting a team together — Kirk could swear that her ability to trust diminished each year; not that he could blame her. While Kerr dealt with cyber threats, Kirk dealt with the physical ones and, with each plot they thwarted, the trust they had in each other grew while the small amount they had in those around them shrank.

Still, Harker seemed to have more problems with it than him. She constantly analyzed those around her, she was never satisfied with the work of others, and her overly critical approach to things had scared many of the corporate "working bees". Kirk could understand her because they were almost the same but his job required that he gave some trust out — he couldn't command the Corporate Soldiers of Illéa without doing that — and that he worked together with many people, something Kerr struggled with.

"How is the preparation for protection?" Asked Harker.

"We've got a small problem with forming enough units for the number of people that Valentine wanted to select," said Kirk, eyes never leaving his tablet, "But I've started to recruit from other departments, you know how there's always some who take the opportunity to leave the tables."

He didn't receive a response but Kirk could imagine that his sister had nodded. Every year, Kirk asked permission to draft more people from the corporation into their paramilitary force; that was done because the organization grew every year and Kirk felt that there was always a need for more protection and he took advantage of the fact that not every Corpo was satisfied with only paperwork, he knew that some liked adrenaline and thrill. As it was, the yearly draft would have to be done earlier if Kirk hoped to keep his first strategy of assigning three guards per Selected while still maintaining the usual level of security around Valentine and the Corporation itself while the program's events were happening. If he was to be honest with himself, Kirk was just waiting for something to go wrong with his and Harker's carefully done plans.

"Should I talk to Valentine?" inquired Harker.

"No… Not yet, at least," said Kirk, "I think I'll be able to gather enough people but the events for the competition can't be on a whim, tell him to at least warn me a day prior."

"Whim is Valentine's middle name," snorted Kerr, "But I'll try to hammer it into his empty head."

"Just take care of the dates yourself, he won't try to fuck your schedule after your deal."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said his sister, her tone making Kirk put his tablet aside, "Valentine has never been good with following promises, he has been laying low and allowing me to stop most of his recklessness but I can see he is getting tired of our game."

"You'll have to invent a new game then," said Kirk, getting up from his sofa, walking to the bar that was behind their sitting space, "We can't have him getting out of hand again, it will ruin everything."

"I know."

"A drink?" asked Kirk, a bottle of vodka in hand.

"No. My head is already killing me, I don't need the hangover tomorrow."

"It's not as if I'll drink that much."

"I'll pretend to believe you, brother," said Kerr, getting up to make her way to the bar, "You're stressed, more than normal."

"Your powers of observation are unparalleled," grunted Kirk.

"I'm serious, Ambrose. I'm worried for you."

Kirk sighed, taking his eyes off his drink and looking at his sister's violet gaze. He knew she was right. This 'Selection' thing was taking a larger toll on him than he'd like to admit, the office had been a mess ever since Alaric had announced it internally. The mountains of paperwork, cyber work and interviews that he was juggling just weren't normal; and he knew that it would only get worse now that Valentine had announced he had a birthday surprise ready. It wasn't as if no one outside Illéa Corporation knew of what was coming, there were already gossip tabloids talking about the possibility of 'Illéa's heir settling down' but they had only accepted applications from Corpos for now.

It was a rigged system. Of course, it was. Alaric Schreave was sure to try everything in his power to make his grandson choose his ideal candidate — if not, why would he have opened pre-applications for only the higher tier of the megacorporations? Kirk doubted that Alaric would ever accept a granddaughter or son-in-law that came from the streets or desert. Kirk knew that Alaric was expecting him and Kerr to keep an eye on Valentine, keep an eye on his feelings, steer him in the "right direction", and, normally, Kirk wouldn't have any problem with it. His problem was the fact that this time, the manipulation would affect an important part of Valentine's life and it left a bitter taste in Kirk's mouth to be picking and choosing who the heir should and shouldn't have feelings for.

"What do you want to do?" asked Kerr, her expression making it clear that she picked up on his train of thought.

"What we always do."

Mirror Opera House, Northern District of Angeles City - Sunday, May 25th, Year 23XX

The media had gotten to the opera house early.

They reminded Kirk of a pack of hungry hyenas, he could swear that they'd bite each other's throat out if it meant getting a better place to interview the star of the evening. To coordinate the guards into position was a difficult task, with all the journalists pushing one another, trying to get closer and closer to the opera's entrance. He could see how the new additions to the force were having a difficult time but Kirk couldn't do much about it — after all, newbies were always the ones to get the worst jobs.

The driveway was fully occupied by all types of luxury vehicles, the one percent of Angeles City all dressed in their best clothes, showing off their wealth in the most obvious ways. Their attires screamed extravagance, the type that would've made Harker frown; their implants were all obvious, many of them having undergone an entire transition to chrome and Kirk had to hold back a grimace every time a too shiny piece caught the sun and blinded him.

Harker stood by his side, meticulously scanning the crowd while maintaining a fake smile to every guest that passed by. Kirk could see how stiff his sister was, shoulders squared, back ramrod straight and jaw tightened. Her fingers gripped her tablet with such force that Kirk thought she'd snap it in half.

He wondered what had gotten her so strung up; had she not been with him since morning, he would've risked a bet on Valentine. Kirk looked down to his sister, her petite frame almost swallowed by the fur trims of her coat, a metallic purple dress underneath it — she had spent the morning pacing. She had paced in the apartment. had done so in the opera hall before the opening. And Kirk was sure she was pacing inside her head too.

Suddenly, he was taken from his thoughts by a noise from his earpiece —"Sir, the convoy is to arrive in five."

"Understood," was his only reply as he placed on hand at the small of his sister's back, their signal to move.

Harker was quick, the violet of her eyes losing the blue sheen of data screening as she gracefully descended the black marble steps of the opera house. Kirk was just a few steps behind, looking around to spot his people as he went, making sure nothing was out of place.

An accident was the last thing he needed today.

It wasn't long before he sighted the black vans, a red Rayfield in between the security cars. Kirk looked down at his sister, her expression getting darker as the convoy came closer. He could imagine that she had gotten a promise from Valentine, one that required he would not use his most attention-grabbing car.

It didn't take long for the Rayfield to stop almost in front of them, Harker was already opening the door before the car even fully stopped.

Valentine's clothes couldn't have been less appropriate and Kirk could almost hear the plethora of insults that were passing through Harker's mind as her frown deepened. The blonde man had decided that wearing a sheer silver shirt and common black pants was enough for a formal occasion, the only part of the outfit that could be said to be formal were the black moccasins. The blonde hair was disheveled, the reddish eye make-up smudged. A smirk adorned his face as he stepped out of the car, one that only grew as he glanced at Harker; Kirk could only sigh internally as he watched, straightening his shoulders when he saw his sister's grip on her tablet get even stronger.

"What the fuck are you wearing?!" Kirk heard Harker hiss quietly as she and Valentine made their way to the opera house.

"Well, dear Kerr, as you can see this is a Stanton original. Didn't you see last month's fashion show?"

"We had a deal," said Kerr, in between her teeth, "You should be in a suit, not looking like the latest edition joytoy."

"Dark blue doesn't flatter me," said Kirk, "Besides, I should be showing what my spouse-to-be will be getting."

Kirk didn't say anything as Harker quietly berated her charge, he walked behind the pair with hands behind his back. He was never one to pull himself into conversations and he had nothing to say to Valentine Schreave, he rarely had. While making their way to the main entrance, Kirk looked around while listening to his subordinates confirming their positions and praying that nothing outside of his power ruined the security plans.

Entering the opera, the trio fell silent, and while Valentine still smirked at anyone who looked at him, the blonde's eyes had lost their usual mischievous glint. The opera was one of the few places in Angeles City that hadn't been built in a modern architectural style, resembling one of the old structures that Kirk had only seen in photographs. The presence of marble was a mark of the opera, with its tall columns sporting the black stone, golden veins giving a refined air to the great entrance hall. Dark wood also made part of the aesthetic, blending perfectly with the marble as they passed the threshold that led to the main theater, where many guests were already seated. As always, Valentine's seat would be on one of the booths from the second floor, one that had an almost panoramic view of the stage.

Not that he would need to watch the play, Kirk was sure that the Schreave had memorized it, seeing as he was the one to commission it. Another one of his many dramatics that drove Harker crazy.

"Why couldn't you just make a normal announcement?" grumbled Harker as they made their way to Valentine's booth.

"Where would be the fun in that? A play is much better than a boring speech, at least people will get to have a bit of entertainment."

"You should've just gone with the fucking press conference… Like I told you to." Harker snaped, her expression contorted in a snarl, "You fucked all of Ambrose's plans on security and had me working overtime — again — to find you a bloody playwright!"

"Come now, Kerr. Don't tell me that this idea isn't genius," said Valentine, "Don't you agree, Kirk?" asked the blonde, turning his face toward Kirk, who walked behind Kerr.

Kirk lifted an eyebrow, his lips pressed in a tight line as he tried to convey his dissatisfaction to the blonde man. In Kirk's opinion, Valentine was the walking definition of lack of common sense, the man didn't seem to understand that his grandiose ideas were, most of the time, ridiculous and caused mayhem in everyone's tight schedules. The fact that this play wasn't the most bizarre thing Valentine had asked of Harker just solidified that thought in Kirk's mind. And whenever Harker was put on a strange quest, Kirk ended up going right along — I will not be the only fool here, she had said to him once.

"Are you really asking me that?" deadpanned Kirk.

The booth Valentine would occupy wasn't the grandest one, but it had the best position in the theater. Kirk had only been to the booth once before when Alaric had wanted to see what was it that his grandson liked so much about the space. All in all, there wasn't anything special. The decoration was the same as the other booths, a mix of black marble, dark wood, and golden finishings, the seats were velvety red and there was a small center table for drinks.

Still, Kirk remembered his sister commenting that this was Valentine's favorite place to be whenever he wasn't blackout drunk.

"Are you going to watch the play with us?"

It took Kirk a moment to process what Valentine had asked him. Lost in his observations, Kirk had failed to notice that his sister had already claimed one of the seats for herself, which meant that there was only one more chair.

"Your grandfather asked me to accompany you."

Valentine snorted as he took a seat, "You mean he ordered you to."

Kirk had yet to answer when the first warning of the play came, signaling that it was about to start.

He stood there, watching as the actors took the stage.

The comedic rendition of the Selection lasted for two hours.

Press Conference, Mirror Opera House, Northern District of Angeles City - Sunday, May 25th, Year 23XX

Kirk was completely sure that, whatever higher power existed, he and Harker were being punished by having Val crash into their lives. The fact that he was now trying to control the crowd of reporters outside the opera house while Valentine smiled and waved didn't help to dissuade that belief. Harker was by his side, glaring at any reporter who ended up bumping on her as the crowd tried to push past the security cordon.

As if the reporters weren't enough, there were the civilians. They tended to be rowdier than journalists, many of them not caring about the twins' glares and only focusing on getting a closer look at Valentine Schreave. Kirk never had to deal with Val's so-called fans but Harker constantly complained about it and he now was starting to understand. They seemed to be way too happy in trying to feel Kirk up while attempting to put their hands on Val and Kirk had to curb every instinct in his body that said he should use force to disperse the crowd.

But Alaric Schreave, his boss, had made it clear that he wanted no bad press during the Selection months. And what Alaric Schreave wanted, Ambrose Lex delivered.

"May I have your attention?" Val's voice came from behind him, Kirk couldn't turn to look as the crowd grew more unrestrained.

Can't he hurry up?! - K1

What? Tired of having your ass groped? - K2

Fuck off, Kerr - K1

Yes. He was tired of having his ass groped. Kirk just wanted Val to put an end to his day-long announcement so that Kirk could go off to enjoy his free hours. To enjoy the one week before being thrown into the arena with Val's Selected.

Before being demoted to a glorified babysitter.

God, Kirk would never again wish for his sister's job.

Oh, hi! Hello! Long time no see right? *hides behind computer* BUT HEY MA I MADE IT! *ahem*

After this super professional beginning, I'd like to thank everyone who helped me finally get this chapter out. I'll just say, I would never be here without you guys and your amazing support. So, everyone on Discord, thanks so much! (Logan, you absolute boss!)

As I promised, this is the chapter planned for before Selected start appearing, and so, I am proud to announce the due date for the forms:

FEBRUARY 1ST

Why is that? 'Cuz me has holidays coming and I'll try to use that time wisely by planning more *while getting a tan* Small reminder that you guys can reach me via PM and that's where I'd like to receive forms from, to keep things organized. Another thing, English is not my first language so y'all are bound to stumble upon my grammatical poor sentences but hopefully, the flow of the chapter is not lost because of it. Feel free to offer advice on your reviews, I just ask one thing: BE RESPECTFUL. To me and to everyone else.

And don't diss my babies. Please, I love them so much. *says while waiting for tea to spill on the twins and Val*