"How do I look?" Menat trotted where she stood, swaying a bit in the mirror as she looked herself over.

For the event, she had found herself a nice knee-length dark marine dress that faded into a lighter blue at its end, all covered with small star-like specks. Menat adored its colors and mystique, even if it meant she had to wear arm warmers to hide her wound, bringing a strange vibe to the outfit. Just to soothe herself, she used a star-shaped hair clip to style her hair just a bit beyond the ordinary.

"Dazzling as only you can," Rose smiled and Menat felt like melting.

She cupped her face and giggled a bit. "Hehe, master, you flatter me!"

"Yeah but she's not wrong," Maggio said from the doorway to Rose's room. He had slicked his hair back, looking quite well-dressed in the suit he was wearing. Against that and Rose's red ballgown, Menat felt a bit underwhelming, but she appreciated the reassurance. Maybe it was the perfect move to not draw attention to herself.

The gala for the Divination Association was an annual event and each time, Rose had ordered Menat to stay at home until she came of age. According to her, such an event where people mingled, drank alcohol, and practiced their craft until far into the night was not a place for a young girl. Now when Menat was older, she had been to her fair share of these events. She could do without drinking, however.

Maggio crossed his arms, pouting a bit, "Now let's just hope, it's not gonna be boring as hell"

"Oh quiet, young man," Rose chided. "This is an important lesson on the entirety of divination as a whole."

"As a whole" would imply a lot of things, for better and for worse. Menat was fascinated by the world of spirituality, but the last gala had a display of anthropomancy which had probably traumatized her for life. The participant had given his full consent but that didn't change the horror show that followed.

"Did you ban the gore?" Maggio asked the question resting on everyone's mind.

"Yes, I did ban the gore. Now stop worrying. The knowledge you can collect this night will be amazing," Rose sighed as she straightened the folds of her dress a tenth time. She pursed her lips in the mirror to see if the lipstick had been applied just right.

In the meantime, Menat considered herself as prepared as she could be, except for shoes. She made her way out of Rose's quarters to pick them up on the way to the basement. The wound on her arm tended to sting whenever she flexed her muscles a certain way, putting a damper on gymnastics. Such a shame since it was a nice distraction. Then again with preparations for the gala, she hardly had any time for that.

And now, her attention rested more on the person, to whom she was paying a visit. After the incident that happened yesterday, Charlie had secluded himself in the realm of slumber. He had managed to take care of his wound before that, it seemed.

She wondered if he realized his glasses had been cracked. She got her answer when she saw him again, wide awake, only a few hours before the gala. He sat on the bed, mulling over his broken glasses, poking at the shattered lens when he lifted his head to look at her.

"Hello! You're finally awake! Are you okay?" Menat asked from the entrance of the room. She recalled that she told him how glasses made some people look cool, him included. Without them, Charlie looked, admittingly, just as cool.

"More rested than I ever wanted to be," he answered sardonically, and she took it as a cue to enter, eventually standing right before him. She tried not to blush when she saw him scanning her from head to toe.

Unsurprisingly, Charlie hadn't dressed for the occasion, and he wasn't in a rush to do so, it seemed. Menat didn't expect him to join but she'd rather not have him sit alone here either, trapped between this place and the gala above him. She hoped at least to have him on the first floor, silently asking this when she reached out her hand. Coincidentally with her wounded arm.

For a moment, Charlie stared at her and something came over his eyes. His lips thinned and he looked downwards. It was as if he was ashamed to even touch her after what happened but touch her, he did, sliding his hand to her forearm.

"…Sorry," he said as his thumb brushed over her bandaged wound. Just gently enough to not make her wince. She had no idea what he was apologizing for and yet she understood why. But there was no bitterness by that reminder. Just relief at a terrible scenario avoided.

"I don't accept your apology because you have nothing to apologize for. I'm not mad at you. And neither is Maggio. Neither is Master," she said as she kneeled before him.

His hand left hers and she used the chance to cup his face, making him look at her but only at her. "But if you want to make it for me…come upstairs and hang in my room. I could use your sardonic in case I witness someone do rumpology."

"What?"

"Butt reading," she said completely straight-faced before she bubbled with laughter until her cheeks began to burn. For a moment, Charlie sat stunned until the faintest hint of a smile cracked over his face. It was such juvenile but innocent fun and it felt good to laugh with someone. It cast the ghost of bad memories away, at least just for a while.

"If you're asking to test it on me, forget about it," Charlie said, prompting another peal of laughter from Menat.

"So do you want to do it on me?" she grinned, completely facetious while she caught traces of tears from her face without ruining her makeup. When she looked at Charlie again because he didn't quip back at her, she saw him stare back at her, wide-eyed with a red tint spread across his cheeks.

"I'll give you a lesson if I learn more," she sighed and stood up, finding his reaction amusing. It reminded her of the face she and Maggio made when they were first introduced to the practice. To watch a demonstration was enough to make them collectively combust.

The event was situated between casual and elegant, just as Rose preferred it. Menat did expect some level of flair to the event, though most of it came from the other guests, dressed in elaborate ballgowns and suits. It was taking a step backward into history, watching everyone mingle with each other, talk of olden times and past experiences, and engaged in casual conversation while the wine flowed. Watching their jewelry sparkle in the tempered light. Making Menat feel so out of place. She tended to forget that feeling every year. Maggio no doubt felt something similar.

No one seemed to care that the wine was cheap and storebought, even complimenting it. Maybe it was also because the Association consisted of mediums from all walks of life; rich, poor, and everything in between. Most of them didn't care about wine as Rose did. Plus, the endless supply of snacks probably colored their palates.

As Menat had suspected, no one seemed to pay attention to either her or Maggio, only receiving a few glances here and there. On the other hand, they were all over Rose but it was pretty known that she was a respected fortune teller.

Well, that and people just really seemed to like her elegance and beauty. Menat would certainly be the first person to state that Rose had something about her, charisma and mysterious grace that seemed to make people melt in her presence. A paragon of what a true medium was.

"Man, do you think people would talk to us if we had a couple of thousands to spend on fancy duds? Or killer gowns like Master?" Maggio asked, leaning against the wall. He looked at his bottle of soda, drank the last bit, and tapped his fingers on the glass.

Menat mused. "Probably. Most likely."

She recognized pretty much all the divination practitioners present and took some minor level of interest in observing them – seeing how they talked, their mannerisms, and how they connected with their craft. For one day, she would have to join their ranks, make friends, and prepare for shifts in relationships, personal promises, and agreements.

"Damn, now I kinda envy Charlie," Maggio sighed.

"Mm-hmm," Menat nodded.

She had been successful in luring Charlie upstairs to her room, and he had remained there since before the gala started. She offered to disguise him, but he refused and now she wondered if he was lonely. Certainly not bored since he took to her modest book collection like a moth to the light. He was no doubt in his element.

"You want more soda?" she asked, hoping to pay him a visit too while she was at it.

"Sure. Let me go with you. Gotta take a squirt."

She swatted at him, her face blushing in shame as he grinned on his way to the staircase. "Gosh, Maggio. Language!"

Taking a few pitchers with the hope of refilling them, they were soon upstairs and somewhat distant from the gala below them. Maggio made a beeline for the bathroom and Menat headed for the kitchen, filling each pitcher to the rim. As she was alone, she felt like finally able to breathe again, stretching her arms but wincing when her wound ached.

She had promised herself not to think of the circumstances or the mystery of who that woman was. Whoever she was, she seemed wholly unpleasant but knowledgeable enough about Charlie to know of his…circumstances. Whatever their relationship was, it certainly descended into a sour note. For a moment, Menat did wonder if she was a former lover…or had something to do with Charlie's revival.

Either way, when the time was right, she'd ask him. Heck, that meant she probably had to divulge her own issues to him as well to make it a fair trade, but it was a choice, she was willing to make.

"Good evening, mi querida," the sudden greeting nearly caused Menat to fall backward.

She snapped her head to look at the doorway to the kitchen, and there stood a man, whom she had not seen at all during the gala. Or any of the Association's galas. Tall, slender, muscular, and impeccably dressed. His blonde hair looked like it had been combed to perfection, gracefully hanging over his shoulder in a braid.

He looked like a character straight out of those self-indulgent romance novels, Rose liked to read. No doubt he had been ogled at all night by men and women alike, probably placing bets on how many people, he could charm.

"Uh…hello?" Menat greeted, still utterly confused and a little distracted by whatever he had called her. But more so the faint feeling of familiarity, she had with him. And then it struck her.

The rich Spaniard, the one whose fortune she read!

The man entered the kitchen, staring at Menat like she was the only person in the world, almost as if he was looking through her to scrutinize her soul. He reached for her hand, raised and kissed it like a prince trying to woo a princess.

"You look absolutely stunning," he said, and she felt like melting.

"Oh! Thanks!" Menat was unable to stop smiling, shuffling on her feet to try to present herself like a calm and collected person. "So sorry I didn't call you. A bunch of strange things happened lately, and I've been busy."

"That is quite all right. I had a feeling I'd see you again for this event," the corners of his mouth pulled into a warm smirk, powerful enough to cure everlasting sadness.

"Do you like divination?" She asked.

"No. I'm a sponsor. Became one quite recently since I admire the grace of Rose and her dear apprentice. Miss…?"

"Menat," she answered with a bit of pride and joy, noting the look of curiosity in the stranger's eyes as her hand slipped out of her grasp. His smile widened a notch. "A graceful name for a graceful lady. You may refer to me as Vega."

From the hallway, Menat spotted a mop of red hair making its way to the kitchen and soon, Maggio stood at the door, having taken off his jacket and tied it around his waist. "Hey, Menat. How's the soda coming?"

Before she could answer, Vega stiffened. He didn't turn to look at the young man but something about Maggio seemed to have irked him quite a bit. His body grew tense as he stared at Menat more intently, his voice suddenly devoid of any warmth whatsoever.

"Pardon me, Menat. I see you were busy so I won't interrupt you any further. But if I may, is there a place within the vicinity with a little more peace and calm?"

Menat hesitated a bit. There was the balcony, but Rose had said she preferred it if people didn't go to the uppermost floor. Yet Vega seemed to have flipped a switch and Rose never said people were prohibited from going.

"Uh, the upstairs floor has a balcony," Menat said after a pause, noting how Vega's eyes snapped to Maggio for a split second.

"Thank you, mi querida. I hope to meet you there," he said with a cold smile and quietly excused himself, leaving a slightly worried Menat and an utterly confused Maggio behind.

"What's his problem?" the young man asked with a sneer, heading for the crate of soda and taking the last one flavored with watermelon. Meaning that Menat would have to settle for lime, a little too sour for her taste.

"He's a sponsor. I read his fortune as well and he gave me his number," she put the bottle on the kitchen table, waiting to take a drink before she had taken the pitchers downstairs. And found a way to ignore the look of utter disbelief on her fellow apprentice's face.

After having taken the water downstairs, Menat pushed the door open to her room, seeing Charlie sit on her bed, surrounded by her plushies, pillows, and books. He didn't move except snap his eyes to watch her close the door behind her.

"Hello!" she greeted, trotting her way to the bed. When she sat down, she kicked off her heels and stretched her legs, leaning into Charlie to see what he was reading. She read the first sentence and stopped, certainly not that invested. Certain that the book wasn't hers.

"What's it called?" she asked, watching as he put it on the bed with its pages facing downward. On the cover, there was a silhouette of a wolf.

"Steppenwolf. The author felt his work was misunderstood since everyone focused on the misery porn and not the possibility of healing and transcendence. I read it as…acceptance of one's shadow or oneself," Charlie mused with a faintly solemn expression on his face. He looked at her and Menat had a strong feeling that he was speaking more about himself than the novel.

"Wow! You really are a nerd! Take it as a compliment," she grinned, chuckling with mischief when he closed his eyes with a quiet sigh.

"Thank you for that," he quipped calmy while Menat rose from the bed, twirling a bit and relishing in the feeling of not having high heels strain her feet. She purred when she stood still, "You never gave me a compliment by the by."

"…You look nice," Charlie sighed, still having his eyes closed. From where she stood, Menat could stretch her arm and poke against the green gem in his head.

"You closed your eyes. Doesn't count."

Slowly, he opened his eyes and watched while she stepped back to strike a pose akin to that of a cat, puzzled and amused by this.

"Right. You look very nice," there was what one could almost call a smile on his face as he said that. Curiously, a faint red spread across his face. Compliments weren't his thing, it seemed. Menat on the other hand was beaming. The addition of ''very'' did little to stop her face from turning bright red. She cupped her face, feeling their heat almost burn through the arm warmers.

"Thank you!" she felt a smile blossom on her face. "You're the fourth person to tell me that!"

"Only fourth?" he raised a brow, resting between amusement and slight curiosity.

"Yes! Master, Maggio oh, and Vega!" Menat answered, sparked by her own reminder. Quickly, she fetched another pair of shoes and jogged to the door, flinging it open and startling a few guests in the hallway.

"The balcony if you wanna meet him!" she said before she closed the door and apologized to the guests. She began to wonder what would occur if Charlie and Vega were to meet each other. Hopefully, they would get along.