The final note faded away as I put down my viola. My boss, who now stood in the doorway, prompted this early end to the song. "958." He addressed me and stepped into the room, slowly crossing over to the side table where I'd abandoned my phone. He picked it up and flipped it over a few times in his hands. "Funny thing. Texts." He let out a short laugh. "You never can be sure who's on the other end." I looked at him confused. "Get ahold of someone else's phone, and suddenly- "he dropped the phone to the floor, "-you have all the control." It shattered on impact. "Their opinions changed in an instant. And they wouldn't be any the wiser." He grinned widely. "Now, 958."

"Boss?" I placed my bow into the case and stood.

"I have a job for you." He kicked aside the broken phone and moved back toward the door. I instinctively followed. "Bring your instrument."

The house was dark, as most of them were at this hour. I could do it in broad daylight, but the boss insisted, and I wasn't about to argue with him, not after what happened to the last guy that tried. I snarled and shook off the memory. I wasn't one of his lackeys. I was practically his level. Smart. Adaptable. Competent. Hell, I knew my name. Not many in this profession did. But here I was, following orders like a simpleton with no brain. I leapt to the balcony and slid open the glass door, suppressing a laugh. Some people were too trusting. Four floors up could hardly stop a burglar, let alone an assassin. These morons were making it too easy.

I ended up in a room littered with dirty plates and paper napkins, half eaten slices of pizza and discarded bottlecaps. I grimaced. Pigs. I smiled at the floor at my own dark comparison. I tiptoed over the mess and into the 'cleaner' hallway. The man I was after should be in the second bedroom. An open doorway greeted me. You couldn't make this any harder could you? I took one last look at the photo identifying my target and slipped inside.

Empty. But he was here. I had watched him enter the room. I must have missed him moving. Amateur! I quickly glanced around the room. His trainers were gone. So gone. I breathed out heavily. I could not fail. Boss hates when we fail. Think. Where would he have gone? No cars had gone by while I entered the building, so he hadn't called a cab. Therefore, wherever he'd gone would be within walking distance. At this time of night, it was mainly pubs that were open, and the nearest one was a few blocks away. I'd need to hurry.

I exited the building and found my bearings. With a quick leap, I descended from one balcony to another, all the way to the street below. Keeping a low profile, I ran west, as close to the buildings as I could until I reached the pub I expected my victim had travelled to. Well, I did ask him to make this harder. I stepped out into the neon light and crossed the street, pulling out my ID as I went. Once inside, I glanced at the patrons. To my delight and, while I'd never admit it aloud, relief, my target sat with two others at a table near the window. I chose another table close by and ordered a lite beer.

The snippets of conversation I was able to catch proved to be of little interest. Definitely not a celebratory gathering. I'd need to speed up the process of drunkenness. I waved over a cocktail waitress and ordered a jungle juice round for the table. With little hesitation, they all downed them and ordered another round. Good. It wasn't long before my guy headed off to the loo. I left my tab on the table and followed, waiting just outside for the sound of the urinal flush. As soon as I did, I stumbled in, acting drunk. Empty, except for my target. He looked up as I entered, and for a second, looked sympathetic. But then I attacked. A quick blow to the side of the head and he was weakened. A hit to his throat and he was unable to speak. I helped him vomit into a urinal, the less mess the better, and supported his weight as I led him from the toilets. The bouncer nodded to me, and with that, I was out.

I'm never sure what happens to the people left behind in situations like this. I'm sure they wondered where he'd gone, asked the waitresses if he'd left, been told he was led out by some girl, later found his flat empty and assumed he'd been laid at her place, and of course, find him dead the next morning. The only thing that mattered to me though, is that the job was done, and my life was safe. That's how it would always be because I don't fail. Or so I believed until the day Boss finally let me in on the real target. Sherlock Holmes.

Song: G.P Telemann Fantasia no.7 for solo viola

*I wove the basic story line with my ex girlfriend, A. David back in 2013. At the time, we just had dialogue and it was more of a roleplay. I always wanted to turn it into a real story that Fanfiction would accept but never found the will or time to do so. During quarantine, I've found lots of time and have been editing the dialogue into my own story. So far, I'm 14 chapters in and have only converted 85 pages of dialogue into a readable format. There are 640 in total. I'm probably going to break it into multiple stories, but hopefully this first book will get to the fluff. ;) (I'm not alluding to John being attractive later for no reason.) But I'll let you know when I get there. Probably. If I remember. heheh... Anyways. I hope you all enjoy. I know I did. Stayed up to the early morning hours just to write it in 2013.*