Hello, readers! First off, I just want to say that updates will be quite random. Also, I have a Harry Potter fanfiction and three different BNHA books on Wattpad that I have to make chapters for also. What I'm trying to say is to just be patient with me. Published chapters will be quite a distance from each other, but they will be long. Enjoy!
"KIDS NEXT DOOR! BATTLE STATIONS!"
"Don't let the Teen Ninjas get any closer to the decommissioning chamber!"
"HAHAHA! Like you Kids Next Dorks could stop us!"
"Numbuh 86! The Decommissioning Module has been hit!"
"Numbuh 362 is still inside. What do we do?"
"It's malfunctioning!"
"Her decommissioning is incomplete!"
"There's nothing we can do. She won't remember any of us anyway."
In a cold sweat, Rachel T. Mckenzie sits up in her four-poster bed, not knowing what to make of the strange dream. Although the dream was strange, it was not the first of its kind for her. Exactly one week had passed for the newly thirteen-year-old girl since her thirteenth birthday. Ever since the night of her thirteenth birthday, she has had strange dreams of strange children who fought just as strange villains. Yesterday, she dreamed of fighting a man in an ink-black suit with the power of pyrokinesis. The strangest part of all of these dreams was that she was always in some way part of them. The kids in her dreams would sometimes salute her and always address her as 'Numbuh 362' or 'Supreme Leader'.
Rachel POV
I rapidly jolt up from my blue fancy four-poster bed in a cold sweat in shock of the unconventional dream with strange children holding strange weapons and even stranger teenagers in metal armor with wrist lasers. I look around my room in slight fear, checking to see if anyone is there. I let out a sigh of relief as I find no one. Phew. For a second, I thought someone was there, but it was just me and my multiple gymnastics and martial arts trophies. I quietly sigh again. Just another weird dream. Again. I look over at my alarm clock to check the time.
7:32 AM
Huh. Might as well get out of bed. With the dreams that I've been having, there's no way I'm going back to sleep again after that. I gently turn myself upright and stand up from my bed. I quickly put on a pair of leggings, a half-black hair-blue shirt that shows my toned midriff, and some clean undergarments and put my hair in a high ponytail before walking towards the kitchen. As I go downstairs, I pass multiple photos, myself being in every single one of them along with either a gold medal around my neck or a very large trophy in my arms with both of my parents on either side of me looking very proud. I don't pay them much mind though as I pass each one. Unlike my little brother Harvey, I am the golden child as some would call it, the one my parents brag about to everyone, especially their coworkers. Truthfully, my parents don't really like to talk about Harvey because of his haphephobia and all, though I know they still love him just the same. Of course, I don't mind their bragging about my achievements. I'm actually proud of how far and how successful I have become. It's just a little embarrassing when we're at a social gathering and they begin to talk about my 715 first-place trophies in martial arts and gymnastics or my junior Olympics gold medals, which I won last year in the all-around, vault, floor exercise, and balance beam. I lightly chuckle at the memory of my father in tears with my mother gently rubbing his back before bursting into tears herself as I stand on top of the podium, having just smashed an old record on the all-around and replacing it with my own while waiting to receive my medals. I reach the bottom of the stairs and walk towards the kitchen, passing a family portrait that consisted of me, my little brother, my father, and my mother. As I walk inside the kitchen, I see Mom and Dad already up, both clad in their business suits and their breakfasts and coffee in front of them. I walk over to the chair next to my Dad and sit down as our personal chef brings out a plate topped with some bacon, a Japanese rolled omelet, and a yogurt parfait, along with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I look up at Matheo, our personal chef, and politely smile in thanks. "Merci, Matheo." I say, thanking the middle-aged man in his native language of French.
Matheo looks down at me and smiles back. "Tu as la bienvenue, Madame Rachel." He answers back with his slightly accented voice before walking back into the kitchen.
I look at him and smile before digging into my food. Mm~ La nourriture est bon comme toujours. You see Matheo is my family's personal chef. He makes my family's breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, along with whatever else we eat. Matheo can make about anything and that's saying something. My family hired him when I was just a toddler, but before he worked for us, he studied for many years in the culinary arts. Some would say that my family is quite wealthy, but we prefer the term comfortable. Heh. I'm kidding. My family is filthy, stinking rich. Well, at least my mother and father are. My mother and father both came from wealthy families that owned billion-dollar companies. I look over to my mother, a middle-aged woman with blonde hair and brown eyes whom I obviously got my looks from. I watch as my mom purses her lips together in thought while sipping her coffee and working on a crossword puzzle, her favorite pass time. Taylor Ramona Mckenzie nee Davis, my mother, was an only child so she took over the company when my grandparents died before I was born. Davis Incorporated, the company my mother is the CEO of, is a multibillion-dollar company, specializing in jewelry and high-quality clothing. My brother and I have modeled multiple outfits for their commercials and fashion shows many times. Well, at least I have. Mother has kind of stopped including Harvey in fashion shows, photo shoots, and commercials ever since his incident two years ago when he roundhouse kicked a photographer for making the mistake of tapping his shoulder during a photo shoot. To say the least, Mom and Dad were not happy. Harvey ended up getting grounded for a whole three months. As for my father, William James McKenzie, who is currently reading today's newspaper and whom I am currently sitting next to, he runs McKenzie Technological Incorporated, a corporation solely based on selling computers, phones, and other forms of technology. My father's company also has multiple shares of some automobile companies, but that's more of a side piece for the company. Dad was also an only child so he inherited his company just like Mom did. I always get told that I am basically an heiress and in actuality, I am. Technically, I am a double heiress. I am the heiress of both Davis Incorporated and McKenzie Technological Incorporated. After finishing my breakfast, I gently lean over the table towards my mom to see her struggling with finding the last word on her crossword puzzle. "The complete range or scope of something. Hmmm. How about gamut?" I ask, deciding to help her with her little puzzle.
A large, excited smile appears on my Mom's face as she hurriedly begins to write the word down. Just as she does so, Mom sends me a thankful smile while setting the thick and very worn-out book down on the table. "Thanks for the help, sweetie. Gamut. I never would have thought of that." She says with a thankful smile.
I look towards her and nod as Dad begins to chuckle from behind his newspaper. "Heh. What else do you expect from our star of a daughter?" Dad jokingly asks while setting his newspaper down and sending me a proud smile. "Junior Olympic Gold Medalist, Four-Time State Martial Arts Champion, and now, Crossword Master. Yup. That's our little, Rachie." Dad adds while teasingly ruffling the top of my hair.
Mom and I look at him and chuckle as I swat his hand away from my head and try to fix my hair back to the way it was. I look over at my Dad and pout. "Dad! You're embarrassing me!" I squeal, extremely embarrassed by the childish nickname that he has been using ever since I could remember.
I see Mom look at the two of us and chuckle as Dad mockingly hangs his head down in forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Rachie. I'm just so proud. I can't believe my little girl is only thirteen and already so amazing! You're growing up so fast!" He exaggeratingly praises as a small proud tear rolls down his face.
I look down at my lap and place both my hands on either of my slightly flustered cheeks in embarrassment. "Dad! Calm down! My thirteenth birthday was just a couple of days ago. I've been thirteen for barely a week." I say, trying to calm him down.
Just as I say that, my father breaks down into a small fit of tears. "B-but, my little girl is already growing up. S-Soon, y-you won't e-even need your d-d-dadd-WAH!"
Before my Dad can even finish his sentence, he opens his floodgates, letting out a steady stream of tears. I look towards him and lightly chuckle as Mom looks at him and tiredly sighs. Of my two parents, my Dad has always been the more emotional and tearful parent out of the two. "William, calm down. You're acting as though you are giving her away. She's only thirteen, barely a teenager. I'm extremely proud of her too, but these tears are uncalled for. Breakfast has not even passed and you have already started crying. Also, if you ask me, Harvey could stand to learn a few things from her." She comments while putting a hand to her cheek.
I look over at my Mom and shake my head, a part of me feeling sorry for my rebellious little brother, as my father continues to sniffle in the background. Poor Harvey. Our parents have really gotten on my little brother's case about his haphephobia and other behavioral issues lately. Since my thirteenth birthday, Harvey has barely come out of his room. Whenever he does though and one of my parents asks him something, he lashes out, causing him to get sent right back up to his room. I look over at an empty seat next to my mother, where I imagined my brother would be sitting right now if he wasn't still holed up in his room, and quietly sigh. I tried talking to Harvey about what his problem has been lately since the two of us have always been close, but he won't let me in his room or even respond to me. Yesterday, I had the chance to talk to him without his door being between us, but just before I could, he ran back into his room, for some reason, with small tears rolling down his cheeks and a couple of sniffles. I never got to ask him what was wrong. I look over at my Mom and gently smile. "Don't worry, Mom. I'm sure Harvey will come around eventually." I say, trying to cheer her up.
Mom looks over at me and loudly sighs, her shoulders going up and then down at the large inhale and exhale of air. "I hope you're right about that. Harvey's weekly psychiatrist visits don't seem to be helping very much with his phobia of being touched. His last session this week was especially terrible. Hopefully, he grows out of it. I just wish he would act a little bit more like you. If only I get him to do private instructing just like we did with you, but I know he'd never go for it, especially since he would be able to see those friends of his." Mom comments before downing the rest of her coffee. I look towards her and nod in agreement. She's right there. Harvey would never go for that especially since he would be able to see his friends...um...no...Oh! and...um. I look down and gently bite my lip in slight concentration, trying to think of the name of Harvey's friends or what they look like. My expression twists into one of confusion as my mind and memories come up blank almost as if there is a force or wall stopping me from accessing them. Huh. That's odd. I look back at my Mom to see her staring at me now in slight bewilderment. "I can't understand why you wanted to stop your private instructing and asked to switch to public school either. The idea is just maddening." She adds while putting a hand to her cheek.
I look over at her in slight confusion. I don't remember asking to switch to public school. If I did, I think I'd remember, especially since all public schools in the city start in exactly a week. "What?" I ask, arching my eyebrow at her in confusion.
Wow. Mom and Dad are actually sending me to public school. This can't be real. The last time I asked, Mom told me that public school was for ruffians and that private tutoring would give me a better education. Just as I say that, Dad stops his crying and puts on a look of confusion as my Mom's expression quickly morphs into one of worry, directed at me. "You practically begged your father and me for the past six months. You even made an extensively detailed presentation, which was quite impressively delivered by the way about the advantages and positives of public school and why you should go and presented it to us. Last week, you also spent the whole day at your new public school taking tests to help with what classes you should be placed in just before your birthday." She says in a slightly raised volume, which dripped with skepticism and worry. "Are you alright, Rachel? Are you feeling sick? It's unlike you to forget things, especially things that you are passionate about." She adds while putting a hand against my forehead to check my temperature and see if I have a fever.
I gently shake my head and lightly push her hand back. "I'm fine, Mom. I'm still just a little groggy is all." I say, trying to put a rest to her skepticism, even though I had no idea.
I feel a small crease form on my forehead once again as another one of my memories comes up blank. Huh. I seem to be having difficulty remembering this also. I look back at my Mom and see her gently nod her head. "Whatever you say, sweetie." She says, deciding to let it go.
I send her a small smile and nod back before looking down at the table's tablecloth, clenching my fists. Something is wrong with my memory, but what? Is it just fatigue or tiredness, but from what? I got the recommended eight hours of sleep last night. I know this will sound pretty stupid, but it's as though someone took my memories and put them all through a shredder. I look up at my parents and gently shake my head. I'm probably just overthinking things, but when did I get so paranoid? Before I can consume myself deeper into my thoughts, I catch my Mom elbowing my Dad into his chest as if to force him to say something. I stare at the two in slight confusion as my Mom loudly and clearly pretends to clear her throat while sending some glances toward my Dad. "Ahem. Moving on. Isn't there something you would like to ask your daughter today?" She asks while sending my father pointed looks.
I look at my two parents in slight confusion as my dad sends a pleading look back at my Mom, as if he is begging her. "But, honey, do I have to? She always refuse-AH!" Before Dad can continue his speech, a high pitch squeal erupts from his throat.
If I had to guess, my mom most likely dug her heel into his foot to shut him up. I look over at Mom as she clears her throat again, as if to tell him to try again. I look at the exchange between my parents in slight confusion. Just what is going on here? I look over at my Dad to see him turn towards me and take a deep breath, as if to brace himself for something, though I don't know what. "Rachel, I-I know that you always say you're busy with your gymnastics, martial arts lessons, your academics, and hanging out with your own bunch of friends, but I was w-wondering if you would like to come with me to the office?" Dad asks me. "It's been a while since you've been and I think it would be beneficial to stand beside me in today's meeting since you will one day take over the company." He adds, the end of his sentence sounding more squeaky than it needed to be.
My confused expression slowly morphs into a gentle smile. I lightly chuckle as I send my Dad a curt affirmative nod. "Of course, Dad. I'd love to go to work with you." I answer back before switching back to my confused expression. "You acted as though I would have said no. Is there a reason for that?" I ask while arching my eyebrow at him.
Is that all he wanted to ask me? I'm going to be the one running Mckenzie Incorporated one day. Of course, I'm going to want to see my Dad in action, running the company. I look down in thought, thinking about my multiple visits and last visit to my father's building which I can remember, back when I was just six years old. Huh. It's been about seven years since I've gone with Dad to his work, but that doesn't sound right. I bite my lip in concentration, trying to think of a more current memory of me at my Dad's office. I gently touch my forehead as a sharp pain erupts in my head, along with any other recent memories of me visiting my Dad's office coming up null. I quietly gasp at the slightly painful sensation, along with the blankness that comes with it. Just w-what was that? Before I can continue my thought on the sharp but quick pain, Dad suddenly brings me into a hug and breaks into tears, breaking me out of my thoughts. "*sniff* D-Did you hear that, Taylor? Our daughter finally *hic* wants to have father-daughter time with her Da-"
Before Dad can finish, he suddenly breaks into another fit of tears, causing his next words to become incoherent. I look down at Dad and lightly chuckle as I decipher phrases like 'my daughter finally wants to spend time with her dada' and 'I must be dreaming' from his crying. After a couple of seconds, I gently try to pry myself out of his grasp, but it all ends in vain. Finally, registering that I won't be able to get out of my father's grasp on my own, I look over at Mom, sending her a pleading look for help. She looks at me and lightly chuckles before standing up from her seat, walking toward us, and gently shaking my Dad's shoulder, causing him to loosen his hold on me. She then looks at her husband and amusingly smiles. "Honey, you've got to let go of our daughter so she can change and be properly dressed for your office." She coos as I take the chance to slip out of his loosened grasp. I look down and examine my black leggings and black and blue crop top and lightly chuckle. Heh. I guess Mom is right there. I guess I really should change into something a little less casual and more business-like. Finally calming my father down, my mother looks back at me and lightly chuckles. "Rachel, why don't you go upstairs and change?" She asks.
I look towards her and nod. "Of course, mother." I say before running upstairs toward my room.
For my outfit, I ended up choosing a dark blue business pantsuit with a white, button-up blazer to go under it, along with a simple gold, chain necklace that my parents got me for my twelfth birthday and some simple one-inch black wedges. I also tied my mid-back length hair into a ponytail and added a dark blue headband, which matched the color of my suit, to go along with it. Feeling satisfied with my outfit, I quickly ran down the stairs to meet Dad, who was already outside waiting for me. After, the two of us went inside my family's black BMW where Justin, one of my family's personal chauffeurs, drove us to my Dad's work. During the drive, I mostly nodded my head and gave curt responses as Dad droned on and on in excitement about me 'finally visiting his work again after so long'. As we draw nearer to our destination, I slowly put my window in the backseat down and look out of it in slight awe as I get a full view of McKenzie Incorporated, the enormous building just as radiant as I remember. After a couple of minutes, Justin pulled up to the front of the large building to let us out.
Dad slowly walked out of the car first before stretching out his hand to help me out next. I take my Dad's hand and gracefully step out of our large car. I look up at the large, skyscraper-like building, in slight anxiety and awe as Justin drives away to join the bustling cars behind me going who knows where. I watch as the large, towering building glistens in the light of the sun's rays, reflecting them off of its tinted window glasses. At the top of the building, a large, golden-colored M, which stands for McKenzie, stands on top of it. "You ready, sweetie?" I hear my Dad say.
I look towards him and sightly nod as Dad grabs my hand and leads me inside. As we walk through the automatic doors of the building, I am met with a large, beautiful entranceway with multiple workers and executives dressed in business formal attire busily walking to their departmens. Some of the executives stop to talk or wave to my Dad, calling him 'Boss' or 'Mr. McKenzie' before walking off to their own working departments. Every single time, though, when someone would say more than a quick hello or one word greeting, Dad would direct their attention to me, introducing me to each of them before telling them about how I was spending the day with him and then going in to talk about all of my national achievements. I zone most of their speeches though, not really interested in what they have to say, though I tune in every now and then. "...You might have seen her at the junior Olympics last year or a couple of months ago when she finally debuted in the senior division and won gold in all her categories at the World Championship in Germany. I'll tell you. How did Taylor and I get so lucky with her, James?! She's already on her way to representing the United States team in the next Olympics as a front-runner for gold in Paris two years from now. Not to mention she also won first place in her national-level competitions for Martial Arts in Judo, Karate, and Jujutsu. Her judo and karate coaches say that she could possibly compete in Judo and Karate in the Olympics also. To think, my little girl could be the first person ever to medal in three different sports. With the way she's going, my wife and I may need to expand our house again to accommodate all of her medals and 're running out of space in her two trophie rooms and bedroom to keep all of her rewards." Dad boasts, unable to go a day without bragging about me while putting a hand on top of my head. "But what can you expect, she is our shining star and the heir to both my wife and I's companies." Dad adds before letting out a quiet sigh and putting a hand behind my back to push me past the executive, whom I'm guessing whose first or last name was James.
After, we briskly walked past an empty receptionist desk before coming towards a spacious room of elevators. Dad quickly pressed a button with an upward arrow on it, and after a couple of seconds, one of the gates opened to reveal a fancy, glass elevator that definitely went well with the established building. The two of us walked inside as Dad pressed another button at the top of the elevator controls, which took us up to his office. As soon as we arrive at his office, which I know is on the top floor, having been here before. I walk inside and stare at his office in small remembrance, the large room being just the same as I remember. I walk around the room, analyzing for any changes that have been made and could have missed since the last time I've been here as Dad walks toward his desk and chair to look through some documents for his 9 o'clock meeting, which he told me about in the car. I lightly chuckle as I find no difference. Heh. Dad's never been one for redecorating. I guess that carries over to his professional life also. I look over at my father and carefully walk past him to check out the large wooden shelf behind him. Multiple family photos and pictures of me and Harvey, separately and together, rest on each level of the tall shelf. I look up at a photo with a simple frame on the top second to last shelf, immediately recognizing it as a photo from one of my first competitions. I fondly smile at it before picking it up from its spot on the shelf, reminisicing about the captured moment. In the photo, a five year old me, with both her front teeth missing and dressed in a red and white leotard, stands next to a younger version of my Dad as he kneels to my height, smiling proudly also, with my first first place trophy on my other side, which was larger than me at the time and the American flag draped around around my small shoulders. I lightly chuckle at the memory of what happened immediately after the photo was taken. Heh. Dad started bawling his eyes out not even second later after the photo was taken. Mom tried to calm him down while I pushed around a crying newborn Harvey, who had woken up from our father's sniffling. It took twenty minutes for him to finally calm down and another ten for Harvey to calm down also. Heh. Harvey was quite the whiny baby, but who's to say he isn't still. To say the least, Mom wasn't too happy with Dad for stirring Harvey up, though I guess she's kind of used to it now seeing as he hasn't gone to a single competition with breaking into a fit of proud tears at least once. As I reminisince about the moment, my fathers voice breaks me out of my thoughts. "Rachel, we've got to head to meeting room C so I can start today's meeting." I hear Dad say.
I smile at the framed picture one last time before putting it back in its original place. I look back at my Dad and nod. "Okay, Dad." I say before following him out of his office and towards the meeting room. As soon as we got there, everyone who I guess was supposed to be there was already there and waiting for my Dad. All of the seats were filled except for thw two in the middle. As we walked inside, I took a seat towards the middle on one of the two empty chairs, which were obviously meant for my father and I while Dad stayed standing. During the meeting, Dad talked about this microchip, which would be added to the company's newest models of phones and computers, which would be coming out in a few months, to increase their efficiency. Besides that, though, Dad also talked about how revenue and sales were up also. I tried my best to stay focused and resist the urge to take out my phone out of boredom. It got easier, though when they started talking about marketing and a new commercial. One of the people at the meeting suggested that they have a celebrity guest. I was kind of surprised though when they suggested me to be the celebrity in the commercial. I mean, come on! I've only won one World Championship so far and I only made my senior debut just last season. I was almost ready to give them Sara Lee's number. She won gold at the last Olympics for the vault and bronze for the floor exercise in Tokyo. I also shared the podium with her at the World Championship, which she also go silver at. We ended up talking a bit and trading numbers. It turned out she's a huge fan of McKenzie Incorporated's products. Of course, at the mention of his perfect little daughter being in a commercial, Dad immediately agreed that would be a great idea, but not before asking me for permission, which of course I gave because I did not want to say no, even though I felt there were better options he could have chosen. The meeting ended up being a total of four whole hours, which was excruciatingly long. Once the meeting was over, Dad and I went back to his office so he could fill out so paper work, which is where we were now.
I boredly scroll through my phone and quietly sigh as the time very slowly passes by. I hear the clock in my Dad's office slowly tick away as the seconds pass by. Ugh. So boring. How is Dad able to stay in his office for so long All of the sudden, a brilliant idea comes into my head. I quickly turns towards my Dad with a pleading expression as he continues to go through his paper work. After a couple seconds, I hear Dad lightly chuckle. "Is there something you want or need, Rachel?" He asks while keep his gaze on the paperwork he's reading.
I look towards him and gently smile. "Can I go out, as in outside of the building and explore?" I ask while putting both my hands together in a pleading or praying motion. If I spend another moment in this stuffy office, I feel like I'm going to explode! "I promise I won't stay to far. It's just I've been in this office for three hours with nothing to do and I had to sit through your meeting for another four hours." I point out.
I watch as Dad looks toward me in thought, as if debating on what to say, before quietly sighing. "I guess an hour or two outside wouldn't hurt. This office can get a little stuffy sometimes, even for me." He comments before relaxing his shoulders. "Fine. You can go, but be back before five thirty." Dad answers while pointing to his wrist watch, which read 2:55.
I look towards him and nod, smiling, before practically skipping towards his door. "Wait!" I hear Dad say once again.
I turn towards him, slightly impatient. "You have your purse?" He asks while leaning forward on his desk with an arm stretched out as if to reach towards me.
I look towards him and nod while pulling at the strap of my white, crossbody, designer purse, which my Mom let me keep from one of my modeling shoots. "Yes, Dad" I answer.
"Wallet?" He asks.
"Yes." I say while pulling out a matching wallet.
"Credit Cards?" He asks again.
"Of course." I answer while pulling out my three credit cards. Two of them are connected to my parent's accounts, while the third is connected to my checking account, which has all my money from endorsements and sponsors from my gymnastics and martial arts.
"Phone?"
"Yes, Dad." I say while waving my phone in the air.
"What about your glasses?" He asks.
I look towards him and nod, quietly sighing before taking out my black, Gucci cateye sunglasses from my purse. "Of course, Dad. I never leave home without them." I say.
Dad looks at me and nods. "I know, Sweetie. I just want to make sure you have everything you need before you leave. Also, put those glasses on before you leave the building. We don't want you getting swarmed or anyone to recognize you." He comments.
I look towards him and nod in agreement. "Of course, Dad." I say before finally walking out of the office and towards the elevators. I walks towards the large room of elevators and press the down button before waiting for one to open. Not even a second later, one opens, which I walk into and press the ground level button to take me to ground level. While in the elevator, I put my Gucci sunglasses on and quietly sigh. Because of my parents both being multimillionaires and quite famous and me being a World Champion gymnast and rising olympic star, my parents thought it would be a good idea if I started wearing sunglasses to hide my face a little. I've had to do it ever since I was nine when a large group of people came up to me one time and asked for my autograph. I ended up staying there for the next half hours, unmoving and signing each and every peace of paper they shoved at me and even after I signed everything, they still kept on using stalling tactics to keep me from walking away. To say the least, my mom was not too happy. She was so mad that I though she was going to call the police on them. After that, my parent took me out and let me pick out about twenty pairs of designer sunglasses for me to wear out of the house. A minute passes and the elevator doors slowly part as I walk out of them and the later out the building altogether. I let out a relieved sigh at finally being out of the stuffy building before beginning to walk in a random direction. Of course, Harvey didn't get the same treatment. He doesn't have to wear sunglasses wherever he goes in fear of someone recognizing him. I gently shake my head while passing a high dollar shoe store. Harvey isn't as well known because he isn't as involved with things as I am. I stop to look at a pair of four inch stilletos in the window of the store and quietly sigh, gently pressing a hand against the glass in thought. Sometimes, I just wish my life was as easy as Harvey's. All of these expectations. He doesn't have them. I don't really mind them, but sometimes, I just want to be normal and be able to do normal things a normal person my age gets to do. I look down in thought, thinking back to my strange dreams that I have been having lately. Heh. If only those dreams were a reality, my life would not be boring then. I guess a part of me wishes that fighting teeth obsessed villains and villains with pyrokinesis was true, but it's not. They're just dreams and that's all they will be. But still, something just feels missing. I quietly sigh. Having had enough of these deep, depressive thoughts, I walk past the shop, deep in thought, my mind drifting to my frequent dreams that have taunted me for the past week and what it would be like if they were a reality.
Third POV
In the opposite direction, a teenage boy runs through the crowd of people, weaving around them with ease. His bouncy side-swept blonde hair, which many especially the female population would have thought of as attractive, flies around his face because of the wind from his running. On his body, he wears a fitted blue shirt, which gives a glimpse of the lean, but well defined abs hidden behind them, along with some plain, black jogger pants to go with them. Unknown to him and the young girl, they were seconds from crashing into each other.
? POV
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
My parents are going to kill me if I'm late for my shift again. Stupid Andrew and his stupid drama! I can't believe I'm going to be late to my shift all because of that idiot continuously trying to get me to gossip about my past experiences with girls. What a sicko! I internally sigh as I continue to weave around the crowd of large adults who are blissfully aware of the world around them with ease, racing to get to my Mom and Dad's lame restaurant before my shift starts. Just because I went out with Stacy, Brooke, Alice, Annie, Bella, Alex, Tanya, and all those other girls does not mean that I'm going to give him any tidbits about it. I only dated them to get info for the TND and that's it, not that it's his business anyway. I just wanted to get him out my face and get to work and just revel in being back home again. You see, my parent shipped me off to my grandparents in Italy, who speak next to no English, for who knows why. I tried to get out of it and I already made an excuse too, but Numbuh Infinity told me to take it and think of it as time off from the TND because of all the 'work' I've been doing. Psh! That's basically code for: you are not of use to us currently. I clench my fists. Tch. I bet Nigie Uno doesn't have to deal with that up in space. The lucky brat. I still can't believe he was chosen as Earth's representative instead of me! He didn't have to give up his reputation. He didn't have to give us friends or family. He didn't have to work hard. He didn't have to give up her. Just as I run through another herd of adults, I suddenly feel myself crash into someone. If I had to guess, the person I bumped into was female, based on the black, cat eye sunglasses that fell to the ground and the high-pitched squeak they make as they fall back towards the ground. I look down at the blonde-haired girl who looked to be about my age, maybe a year or two younger, in slight confusion as she puts a hand against the top of her face as if to hide it, while frantically patting the ground around her, searching for her glasses. "S-Sorry, sir." I hear her quiet but unusually familliar voice say.
Putting on my golden boy smile, I bend down and gently pick up her glass for her. I quietly whistle as I get a peak at brand logo on the glasses in my hand. Designer Gucci's. Damn. These glasses are probably worth more than what I make in a month, maybe even two. This girl must be rich or something. "Here. I think you dropped these." I politely say while stretching my arm to give her her glasses back.
I watch as the blonde-haired girl gently stands up and takes the glasses from my hand, slowly lifting her head up and sending me a thankful smile. I feel my breath hitch as I come face to face with a pair of unmistakable caramel eyes. The eyes that I have not seen in person for two years. The eyes that haunted my dreams and my every waking movement. The eyes of my former second of command and global tactical officer. The eyes of my former best friend. The eyes that I had to watch turn glassy as I tarnished my reputation and was branded as a traitor. The eyes of the current supreme leader of the KND. The eyes of Numbuh 362. Rachel T. Mackenzie. I feel my eyes slightly widen as she continues to stare at me like she used to, back before my supposed betrayal of the KND. After a couple of seconds, her expression quickly turns nervous. "Thank you for helping me find these. I have no idea what I would do if I couldn't find them." She says, knocking me out of my little trance.
Not wanting to cause any suspicion on my behavior from KND's top spy and supreme leader, I quickly change my golden boy smile into my usual bad boy, roguish smirk. Of course, it was her. Her family's probably one of the only people in this whole city that could afford to buy designer things like that. Fuck! I have to find a way to play this off. It's going to look suspicious if a KND operative or one of the Teen Ninjas see their precious Supreme Leader talking with the KND traitor. Putting both hands in my pockets, I look down at her and tauntingly smirk, changing my body language to one of mocking to match my bad boy persona. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Numbuh 362, leader of the KNDorks, you should be more careful next time. All that time up in space must have destroyed your already terrible reflexes." I snidely say, adding a sneer for extra effect.
Instead of the witty comeback and dirty glare that I was expecting, the girl instead looks at me in confusion. Her words affected me much more though. The following words that came out of her mouth made my gut wrench and shook me to my very core. If it weren't for her standing in front of me, I probably would have even run away as fast and as far as I can, ran so much that I couldn't remember the next words that came out of her mouth. I watch as the girl continued to stare at me in confusion, her eyebrow arched instead of the glare I was expecting. "W-What are you talking about?" She asks, her eyes showing no signs of remembrance and only signs of someone who was decommissioned.
I feel my bad boy smirk falter at her words. She doesn't know what I'm talking about? I watch as Rachel's incognizant eyes bear holes through me as I feel my mouth go dry as I process those five words that she had just uttered. September 18. That was her birthday. I feel my bad boy smirk almost cruble for a split second, but I quickly force it to stay in tact, refusing to let anything else slip to the decommissioned supreme leader. I feel a small sense of fear creep and suspicion creep up on the girls face as I continue to stand there like a fish out of water. All of the sudden, a narrowed, suspicious look comes onto her face. "Wait, do I know you?" She asks with a suspicious tone.
I feel my eyes slightly widen and my body to freeze at the question, unfortunately causing her to put more suspicion on me. If not for the shock I felt from her words, I would have internally scream at myself for slipping up once again. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Does she recognize me? No! She can't. The decommissioning module takes away all memories of the KND and its operatives, decommioned ones and current. Anything and anyone having to do with the KND is erased so I shouldn't be familiar to her at all. I look back at Rachel to see her staring at me with even more suspion. Fuck. Now isn't the time to be thinking about this, not right in front of her. I need to get out of here, but how? Not knowing what to say or do anymore to the former KND operative, I slowly walk past her, unintentionally bumping shoulders with her and no longer caring if I'm late to work or not anymore. I keep my gaze downward, refusing to let her or anyone see my wide eyes and chaotic turmoil in my mind. The second I get off my shift, I am so reworking my conversational skills and then drowning myself in root beer and soda. "I've never seen you before in my life." I mutter while walking past her, my voice now fully devoid of emotions at the biggest lie I've ever told.
I feel her gaze stay on me as I continue to away from her, shuffling my feet and keeping my head down almost in defeat. Rachel's thirteenth birthday was seven days ago. I can believe I forgot. I clench my fist, keeping my focus continuously on the pavement as I feel tears build in my tear ducts, though I refused to shed a single one and let the inner turmoil of my mind become known. She doesn't remember anything about the KND. She doesn't remember her work as a spy or being supreme leader. She doesn't remember me. Crud! How could I forget she was turning thirteen this year? A whole month in Italy and I come home to this. As my mind continues to swirl about the newly decommissioned Rachel T. Mackenzie, formerly Numbuh 362, a new question begins to form in my anguished mind. To be more precise though, two. Rachel was the best spy the KND ever had. I hate to say it, but her skills maybe even matched my own. Numbuh Infinity must have definitely had her on his list of candidates to join the TND also. If that's so, then why? Why wasn't she inducted as TND spy? She definitely has all of the qualities to become one. Then, why did she get decommissioned? I clench my fists. All of the sudden, the memory of our most recent conversation comes into my mind too. There's that too. She doesn't remember anything. She can't. It's impossible. "It doesn't make sense." I mutter before walking inside my family's pizza place, my thoughts still fully focused on Rachel, though in a different way than usual.
I quietly sigh. I'll ask Maurice about it and to fill me in after my shift. Numbuh Infinity definitely has some explaining to do.
Rachel T Mckenzie POV
As I continued walking, a tall, blonde blur of a boy bumped into me while he was running. Because of the large impact, I tumbled down to the concrete on my butt with my sunglasses also falling off of my face in the process. I let out a quiet squeak as my butt meets the pavement. Crud. That hurt. Concrete pavement definitely isn't as cushie as the matts at my gymnastics training center. I feel my eyes widen as I put a hand over my eyes, hoping that the person I ran into is not a fan or doesn't watch gymnastics, as I continue to pat the ground, hoping to find my missing glasses. "S-Sorry, sir." I frantically say, keeping my gaze on the ground to stop him from seeing any more of my features.
Please don't be a fan! Please don't be a fan! Please don't be a fan! I'm going to die if he recognizes me and I get swarmed out here by gymnastics fans! Please don't let there be any gymnastics fans nearby! I quickly increase my search for my glasses as I sense the boy stretch his arm out towards me. "Here. I think you dropped these." I hear the boy's deep and gentle voice, which for some reason sends small shivers down my spine, say.
I let out a sigh of relief as I slowly stand back up and gently take my glasses back. I slowly lift my head up to meet the most beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair I have ever seen, ignoring the feel of familiarity and the tiny, almost nonexistent voice in the back of my head whispering '274'. For the next two seconds, I look into his blue, watery eyes, lost in them. I feel my breath quietly hitch. His eyes. They're like the ocean. I feel like I could drown in them. My eyes slightly widen, realizing my rude action. Crud! I've been staring into his eyes from so long, he must think I'm some sort of creep or something. Realizing my position, I quickly look away, breaking our eye contact and chastising myself for my inner thoughts. What am I doing? I just bumped into this guy. I don't even know his name or anything about him. I look back at him to see him still gazing down at me as if in a trance. "Thank you for helping me find these. I have no idea what I would do if I couldn't find them." I bashfully say, a small bit of color coming to my cheeks.
Just as I say that, his bright, radiant smile quickly turns into something of a smirk that reminded me of those group of boys, dressed in all leather that my I had passed a couple of days ago in my parent's car with my mom who called them ruffians, would wear. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Numbuh 362, leader of the KNDorks, you should be more careful next time. All that time up in space must have destroyed your already terrible reflexes." The boy snidely says with a sneer, his whole persona doing a total one eighty.
I look at the boy in confusion, taken aback by his change in demeanor and foreign comments. Who the heck is Numbuh 362? Also, what is a KMD? Is it some sort of organization? Is this boy mistaking me for someone else? "W-What are you talking about?" I ask in large confusion, ignorant to the effect of my words on him. It must have been his turn to be taken aback because, for a split second, I saw his smirk falter before staring back down at me and fixing it back to the way it was. All of the sudden, a far, distant, and blurry memory of me with a boy with side swept blond hair, comes into my mind. I look back at the boy with slightly narrowed eyes while trying to keep the broken and very foggy memory, which for some reason felt as though it was trying to push itself back in my mind, at the front of my mind. That memory. I can't remember its context. Have I met him before? The boy and front of me and the boy in my memory's hair are similar in color and style. Ugh. If only I could see the boy in my memory's eyes. His blond hair kept them hidden. "Wait, do I know you?" I ask in a calculated tone.
I narrow my eyes ever more as I catch his frozen movements. Was I right? Do I actually know him? If that's so, why can't I remember much about him? Who is he? Where do I know him from? When he talked to me earlier, even though it sounded kind of rude, he talked to me as though we knew each other quite well. Why can't I remember anything about him then? Just as I think that, the blond haired boy slowly walks past me, bumping my shoulder with his in the process. "I've never seen you before in my life." I hear him mutter in the most emotionless voice ever.
I follow him with my gaze as he continues to walk away, either ignoring or not caring about my gaze that's burning into his back as he walks away. I look away from him and quietly sigh before trudging in the opposite direction. I look down in thought, though careful not to let my glasses slip once again. He knows. He knows me. I don't know how, but I can just tell he does. What is our connection? "Just who are you, blondie?" I mutter in thought before arriving at my destination, a shopping center of stores.
Thank you for reading! Chad and Rachel finally met! Rachel is in the dark, while Chad is in inner turmoil! Find out what happens on the next chapter!