Turns out that LUX is absolutely clean. No funny numbers. No secret bribes to teachers. No suspicious purchases. Though she wonders why LUX spent a fortune buying crappy music albums.

Her one solid lead is nothing but one teenager with skewed priorities in life.

Chloe flings her notepad against her bed. Goes to stand in front of her 'mystery board'. Delilah's picture tacked in the middle, surrounded by three badly taken photos of Kevin, the LUX and Lucifer. She crosses out the word 'weird accounting' off from the board.

Lucifer Morningstar. His crime seemed to be his conceited and hot-looking ass. There's nothing much she could gather from Mazikeen, except Mazikeen has speech impediment. Perhaps, a tad too protective of Lucifer.

"Who killed you, Delilah?"

For a popular girl, she doesn't have much friends. Outside of Kevin, there are only classmates who barely knew her beyond her name. And yet she's almost a permanent fixed in the LUX.

Chloe flops onto her bed, going through her notes one last time. For all her pretty looks, Delilah's not part of the cheerleading squad. Or any club, aside from the LUX Club. The list on Delilah's acquaintances doesn't provide much help than the suspect list.

See, the LUX connection again. Despite all the evidences she'd seen—she went through those expenditure records alone for five hours and Delilah's meticulous as hell—LUX has no motive to kill Delilah. In fact they needed her more than she needed them.

A yawn or three escapes from her mouth. Chloe rubs her eyes. She needs a fresh set of new eyes. Maybe Ella can help. The school paper has enough Klingon material to digest. They could afford to push back Ella's masterpiece, the Klingons' convoluted forehead history, for another couple of weeks.


During lunch, Chloe recaps her encounter with Lucifer Morningstar to a tentatively-listening Ella. "So, what do you think?" Chloe asks, as she finishes her diagram on Delilah's murder.

Ella gazes down at the diagram, biting her under-lip. "So, Lucifer is no longer your suspect?"

Chloe nods, taking a large bite out of her hotdog. "But everything revolves around LUX."

"Maybe it's not the club," Ella suggests, and Chloe almost choke on her hotdog. "Maybe, it's someone connected to Delilah. Nothing to do with the club at all," Ella explains.

"Were you listening to my story at all?"

Ella holds a hand up, "Listen, you said Lucifer has no motive to kill Delilah," she pauses, points her chin at Kevin's direction, "How about Kevin?"

Chloe shakes her head lightly, "Kevin? He loved Delilah. I remembered my dad told me he passed out when he heard the news of Delilah's death. He got a solid alibi to boot."

Ella dips a French fry into ketchup, munching. "True, he's a douchebag. But he doesn't looked like he could kill. Didn't you say that he's dealing drugs?"

"Yeah. It's Delilah's words. I don't have proof that he's dealing them." Chloe finishes her burger, folding the burger wrapper into small piece. Then quenches her thirst with her coke.

Ella raises an eyebrow, "Then find some proof."

"Easier said than done. He doesn't deal to strangers, apparently. Something that Delilah told me before she died," Chloe says, sliding her notebook into her bag.

Ella frowns. "It's too bad. Where was the deal going to take place? The LUX?"

"No, the girl's locker."

"Not the LUX then. Imagine if Kevin sells at LUX," Ella trails off, her mouth hangs slightly open. Her head cocking at an awkward angle. Her dark eyes has that focused look. The one that she has when someone hot catches her fancy.

Chloe snaps her fingers in front of Ella. No response. Yup, she's lost in her own devouring hottie world. Chloe tosses a look over her shoulder. What could possibly make Ella lost interest in the middle of their stimulating conversation?

Speak of the kid with the devil's name and he appears. Not appear out of nowhere, like he's the devil. Because he's not the devil. Because that's ridiculous. Chloe's a sceptic, raised agnostic by her father. Lucifer Morningstar, just a kid with a trust fund to back up his lavish lifestyle.

Lucifer Morningstar, who fit in more with preppy students than in Vertigo High, strolls into the cafeteria. All decked in tailored suit. Who wears suit to school? Barely has he glanced at them. Like the rest of them are beneath the grime of his black shiny shoes.

Except Mazikeen.

Mazikeen kinda shares the same contempt look—even though her face is a vacant mask. And her grey eyes—eye, more likely—equally hollow, except when she's staring at Lucifer. It's the look that Chloe equates to unflinching admiration. Or passionate obsession. Or both.

It's when Lucifer and Mazikeen exit the cafeteria, most of the cafeteria returns to normal and Ella resumes being functional Ella. "So, what were we talking about?" Ella asks, returning her sight on her lunch. Much of her plate's contents are nearly finished. Saved for the apple.

Chloe scan the cafeteria for the two—just to be sure. Nope, they've left the cafeteria. She leans close to Ella, half-whispering, "What's the deal between Mazikeen and Morningstar?"

"Mazikeen Smith? Oh, she's like the Vice President of the LUX, I think. Super loyal to Lucifer. I'm banking my bet on secret bodyguard sent to keep an eye on him. I mean, the way she seemed to be with him like twenty-four seven."

"Don't you find her strange?"

"Define strange. We got tons of students with questionable fashion choices, life choices or both. Mazikeen isn't one of them," Ella says, taking a last bite out of the apple.

Chloe shrugs. "Can't put my finger on it. Something about her feels unnatural," she says, motioning vaguely around her own face.

"Car accident. Left side of her face is paralysed, or something," Ella answers, gathering her tray. "So, what's your next move?"

Chloe gets to her feet, picks up her tray. "I think I got an idea. I'll need your help," Chloe says, grinning. They make their way towards the tray station.

It's about four steps forward, when Ella suddenly stops in her tracks. Presses her lips into a thin line, she arches her brow and says, "Why do I get the feeling it's going to blow up in our faces?"

"It won't," Chloe reassures. Hopefully.