We danced almost all night long. Despite what he had said earlier, James really was a rather good dancer. I found out that he just didn't like bragging about his achievements and stuff. At first, I wasn't able to get him to say anything-he wasn't the type of person to just start pouring their feelings out. But, with a little prodding, I got to know more about him.

Apparently, his parents were never even married. They dated for a bit before his mom got pregnant. When his dad didn't want the responsibility, his mom split and headed back to her family in Wisconsin. James grew up there and was happy enough, but when his dad requested for James to see him in Seattle, James reluctantly agreed. He had seen his father only once since he arrived in the city. They weren't the best of friends, but at least avoided killing each other.

I was able to easily relate to James. Without spilling my entire guts about Lydecker and my messed up past, I let him know that my dad hadn't exactly been the most supportive either. It was surprising, really it was. Surprising that is, to find a real human, a truly normal human, that is, who had the same problems that a genetically engineered killing machine had as well. I would've told him so, but then, I would've had to kill him. Some secrets are better off that way.

James left sometime later after we promised to meet the next night at the same time. He was a great guy. And, perhaps, he would become more than a friend. It was a lot to hope for, it really was, but I tried to be optimistic.

As I grabbed my coat off the stool I had been sitting at and paid the bartender, a lady passed by me. I blinked, shaking my head as a strange vibe passed through me. It was like the feeling when you know someone's behind you even though you can't see them. I had only felt the vibe before around my parents. Eventually, I learned to recognize and ignore it. But, with a stranger displaying this feeling, I had to question it.

"Hey!" I called and hurried after her. She stopped and turned around, slightly annoyed with being called at by a stranger.

"Yeah?" she replied, cocking her head slightly. I didn't know what to say that wouldn't make me look like a complete idiot. But, the feeling I received from her was so overwhelming that I could risk looking stupid.

"What's your name?" I asked her.

Immediately, she tensed, I noticed. She would've bashed my head in had I made the wrong move or said the wrong thing. I, of course, wasn't worried. There wasn't a human in the world that could beat me. My mom and dad came close, but they still fell short. "Why do you want to know?" she questioned, her eyes glancing nervously around the room.

"You look familiar," I lied.

She regarded me suspiciously, but shrugged nonetheless. Something inside of her told her that I wasn't out to kill her. As much as I tried to, I was unable to reach inside her mind, for reasons I didn't know.

"You really want to know?"

"Yes, I do. Perhaps we really have met before," I lied again. I knew damn well we had never met, but if she caught my pathetic lie, she didn't show it.

Her clothes were rather worn, like she had gotten them from a second hand store. There were small moth holes, and the pants had an orange stain of some kind down the thigh. She reminded me slightly of a bag lady in her cheap clothing that was dirty and stained. Her life had been hard. The shoes on her feet were worn as well, showing that she had walked for many miles without stopping. She was a strong person, and I recognized it.

Her face was aged slightly, pained almost, like she had spent most of her life crying over some tragedy she couldn't escape. She had dark, ragged hair that fell down to her shoulders. I would've estimated that she was about my mom's aged, older, most likely. One of her almond shaped eyes twitched nervously as she contemplated whether to answer me or push me away. She turned away and glanced at the door, ready to leave, perhaps. Extending a trembling hand, she smiled faintly, like I was the first person who had ever cared about her. I accepted her cold hand and shook it.

"What's your name then?" I asked with a smile, trying to ease her into talking.

She paused and licked her lips before meeting me with haunting eyes. I nearly gasped out loud upon gazing into the bottomless pits she had for eyes. Something truly awful had happened to this girl, and she would never be able to escape.

She answered with a voice hoarse and raspy, quivering with fear too. "Brin."