The next morning, Konan woke with her alarm. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and opened them to see a colourful poster taped to the inside her door. She rolled out of bed, frowning, put her feet in her slippers and padded over to investigate.

It was hand-drawn with oil pastels in the style of an ad from the fifties; there was a drawing of Konan in a new-look style dress, leaning against a stove, holding a wooden spoon and shrugging. In big letters around her were the words:

WHY SLAVE OVER A HOT STOVE… WHEN ALL MY BOYFRIEND WANTS IS TO EAT OUT?

Konan burst out laughing. "What the fuck!?" she gasped.

Right on cue, Sasori and Deidara came in through the other door. Considering how much they argued with each other, it was amazing how in-sync they were, both giving her shit-eating grins as they lay down on her bed, watching her.

"So?" they asked together.

Konan faced them, rolling her eyes but still laughing. "What the hell is this!?"

"A Christmas present," Sasori said smoothly, still grinning. "And, judging from last night… Pain gave you his Christmas present early, too…"

"Oh, get out of here!" Konan said, blushing and grabbing up one of her slippers and chucking it at him, but not very hard.

"Oh, boo-hoo, I'm so nervous, I'm scared, I want to wait, I'm an innocent little flower and I can't have sex …" Deidara said in a baby voice. "And then bam, Pain's drowning in the pussy, hm."

Konan's second slipper hit him in the face. "Hey!"

"Why are you guys sexually harassing me? Where's my… I dunno… 'yas queen, get it girl' kinda support?"

Sasori raised his eyebrows, snorting. "Ooh, dated stereotypes, yaaas," he said, snapping his fingers sarcastically.

"Ugh, you know what I mean." Konan said. "I want to talk about it! It was amazing!"

Sasori and Deidara exchanged looks.

"We just came to make fun of you," Sasori said, getting up off the bed and stretching. "Given that both of us are friends with him… I don't really want to hear about his sick cunnilingus moves."

"Well, who else am I supposed to talk about it with?" Konan asked in surprise.

"Aw, she sounds so sad…" Deidara said, looking at her.

Konan immediately put on her best heartbroken puppy face. Sasori groaned, tilting his head back and scrubbing his hands through his hair.

" Ugh… fiiiine," Sasori said on a huge sigh, flopping back down on the bed. "But I have ground rules."

"Okay!"

"I can hear an overview. I am not here for specifics. If you want to talk 'ooh, his hand was here, and then his tongue was there '-"

"Oh, gross ," Deidara interjected, making a face.

"Exactly. If you want to get into that, go run along and make a friend and tell them all about it."

"Okay." Konan nodded, biting down on her grin, so excited, waiting for the go-ahead.

Sasori looked at her and sighed. "So… how was last night?"

Konan squeaked happily, sitting down on the floor in front of them and grinning.

"Okay, it was so amazing , we decided not to go to the party because he could tell I didn't want to go, so he got champagne and we went over to the bleachers… Oh, and before that, the other day, so this is important – he gave me a necklace he made, and on the back it said 'I love you,' can you believe that!?"

"Be still my beating heart," Sasori groaned, settling in for what promised to be an extremely long dish session.

—

After breakfast, Konan went back upstairs to pick up her travel bag and make sure she had the essentials – her wallet, headphones, old phone and charger, and passport. She didn't have to take anything else; she knew from experience that her father always ensured his assistants got clothes for her to wear wherever he wanted her to be, and that if she ever brought anything of her own, it would mysteriously disappear. Her favourite No Doubt t-shirt had apparently been incinerated by the PA he had five PA's before Holly.

She pulled on a sweater she didn't particularly like, just in case, and headed downstairs to the entrance hall, double-checking she was wearing Pain's necklace under her shirt. He met her by the door, giving her a big hug, and waited for the taxi with her. When the black car rolled up, exactly at 10am, he gave her a final hug and kiss.

"I'll see you in a bit. Text me or call me whenever," he whispered. She gave him a final kiss and got in, waving through the window.

She plugged her headphones in and sat back, closing her eyes as the car pulled away. She fell asleep on the way – it felt like barely twenty minutes later the driver was telling her they had made it to the airport. Konan paid the taxi fare and got out, opening her phone to double check the information in the email she had received from Holly.

She headed inside and went to the information desk, reading off the email that a package had been left for her, and showing them her passport. The lady at the desk passed her a shopping bag with a designer label, saying they had been holding it for a week. Konan took it, sighing inwardly, and headed to the washroom.

After closing herself in a stall, she opened the bag and looked inside. There was a sealed black envelope with her dad's company logo on the front in silver. She rolled her eyes and tore it open.

Is there any need for him to be this fucking dramatic?

She recognized Holly's handwriting and wondered if she ever got a holiday.

'Konan, as per usual please wear these in the airport and for your flight. As per usual, your father requests you not speak with anyone in the airport or on the plane. See you soon.'

Below were the details of her flight and information on which desk to go to. Konan bit the inside of her cheek, peering at the clothes in the bag and groaning. She wondered for a moment if anyone would actually find out if she didn't wear them, just to spite him, but remembered that his driver was picking her up from the other side, and she'd just get them both in trouble if she was still in her leggings.

The clothes were still wrapped in paper. Everything was designer, and still had the tags on. Konan stared at them, rolling her eyes as she pulled them off, not particularly bothering to be careful.

Honestly… Why does he spend so much money on this stupid stuff. Does he leave the tags on to show me how much he 'loves' me by spending so much? Or is it to make me feel bad for not wanting it? Why the hell does he do anything he does…

She pulled on a pair of tight black jeans, noting as she did that they were a half size too small.

Hint fucking taken, thanks Dad.

She pulled on a black turtleneck, a long black coat with leather sleeves, and knee-high black leather boots with a narrow heel and stylish wide leg. She slipped on the provided large black sunglasses, black face mask, and black designer baseball cap, and stuffed her old clothes in the provided black leather Birkin bag.

She emerged from the stall, grouchy, and noticed two teenagers washing their hands look at her and immediately start whispering, avoiding her gaze, like they thought she was some kind of celebrity.

God… I want to go home, she thought, and paused for a second, realizing that 'home' in her mind had become St. Misery's, rather than even her apartment by her mom's hospital. She sighed, telling herself it was just a couple weeks, and keeping her dad happy meant that she would be allowed to go back.

She headed to the airline desk to pick up her ticket, trying to ignore the mix of people looking at her and people looking suddenly away from her, as though the outfit was somehow a reverse-polarity magnet.

She knew why he made her dress this way at the airport, even if she didn't like it, or agree with it. He had drilled into her that because she attended benefits and events with him occasionally, that his business partners, and more importantly, potential investors and business contacts, and most importantly all of their various staff and team members, would be able to recognize her by sight, and so she not only had to act the way she was supposed to, she had to look how he wanted her to look, to be sure he didn't embarrass him or the company. However, on top of that, he wanted to also look unapproachable, as he apparently didn't want anyone approaching her to talk about his business, in case she said the wrong thing, or was seen speaking to the wrong people.

"You seriously think anyone cares what I have to say!? I don't know anything about your business, anyway!" she had argued, but it hadn't helped. He seemed entirely convinced that she was both very recognizable, and instantly recognizable as his daughter, and that everyone who was anyone would know who he was, and thus who she was. So she had to look very important, rich, and stylish, and yet completely unapproachable. A pretty high order for the people he kept on staff to dress her, but one they seemed to manage again and again.

Konan absentmindedly took hold of the metal flower necklace, closing her eyes, wishing she was back at school with Pain and her friends.

—

When Pain joined Sasori and Deidara for lunch, neither of them could look at him.

"What?" he asked.

They just exchanged uncomfortable, half-laughing grimaces.

"What?"

"Nothing," said Sasori, taking a bite of his sandwich, "But I was thinking you would do really well as a submarine captain. All that going down ..."

Pain rolled his eyes, sighing. "Of course. Thank you, by the way," he said sarcastically to Sasori, "For barging in yesterday. Very polite of you, very considerate."

Sasori blew him an air kiss. "You were apparently such a superstar, I thought it only fair you have an audience."

Pain's ears perked up. "Superstar?"

Deidara snorted into his cup of soup. "Ugh, don't tell him, he doesn't deserve to be happy, hm."

Pain made a sad puppy dog face at them.

"Not you too," Deidara groaned, rolling his eyes. " Stop…"

"Woof, woof?" Pain said hopefully.

Deidara threw a balled-up napkin at his head. "No! No. I'm sick of it, no stupid, cute, sad, dog faces…" He trailed off, looking from Pain to Sasori, both of whom were now looking sadly at him, pouting, holding their fists up like paws. "What kind of furry-ass foolishness…"

Sasori laughed and refocused on Pain. "Alright, you lucky son of a bitch," he said, pointing at him with a spoon, "Basically, your girlfriend is obsessed with you and wants to sit on your face for the rest of her life. Happy?"

Pain turned pink, and was unable to stop himself from grinning. "Wait, are you serious?"

Deidara pretended to vomit into his soup as Sasori gave a bored sigh.

"We went to see her this morning, looking forward to making fun of her, figuring she'd be really embarrassed, really shy, really easy to mess with…"

"Imagine our disappointment," Deidara said, "When she actually wanted to tell us every single fucking thing you did to her."

The smile immediately dropped from Pain's face. "Wait, what? What did she tell you?"

"Don't worry," Sasori said, reading his expression, "We made her stick to a general overview, for your sake and ours , obviously. She was really excited and doesn't have a lot of friends who aren't also friends with you, poor thing. But yeah, we did get the 411."

Pain pressed a hand to his face, sighing and nodding. "Okay."

"And you came off very well," Deidara said teasingly.

"I think she's the one who came," Sasori snorted.

"Didn't your tongue get tired?"

"I'm surprised he didn't get all wrinkly on his face, like how your fingers do if they stay in water too long…"

"O kay…. " Pain said, standing up. "I'm just gonna take this coffee to go…"

As he walked away, muttering about packing for the winter break, he could still hear Sasori and Deidara cracking jokes behind him.

"Pain must be an amphibian, living half the time on the ground, half the time in the pussy…"

"He's like Aquaman…"

"His favourite Bond character is Pussy Galore…"

—

The flight to Milan took several hours. Konan sat in first class and watched a few movies, then did a few crosswords on her phone. It had actually been quite a while since she had flown out somewhere to see her dad, and all of the little rules he had set out for her trips like this were somehow reflecting back to her strangely, like in a funhouse mirror. Like she was starting to realize how weird they were, when they had been completely normal and expected for her entire life.

For example, she was forbidden to sleep on flights, as it was apparently low-class to do so. As a child, she had trained herself to never fall asleep, to drink water and walk up and down the plane if she felt tired, or, worst-case-scenario, hold herself completely rigid and upright in her seat, hiding her closed eyes with her sunglasses, so it looked like she was just resting.

When watching movies on a plane, she had to keep in mind that other people might see her screen, so she was forbidden from watching anything that hadn't been screened at Sundance or TIFF, wasn't a documentary, or hadn't won an Oscar, and even then it depended which Oscar.

She was only ever booked on the window seat, to minimize the chance of having to interact with anyone, even in first class when everyone was at least four feet away, anyway.

Why does he live like this!? Why does he make me live like this!?

She chewed the inside of her cheek and dug her nails into her palms angrily.

When I'm eighteen, I will never see him again. When I'm eighteen, I'll change my name. When I'm eighteen, I'll tell my mum I'm leaving. I'll send her letters. He'll never find me. I'll go work at a restaurant, I'll go backpacking, I'll dye my hair. He won't find me. And why the hell would he even bother trying to, anyway!? He doesn't give a shit about me. He just cares if I embarrass him.

She took deep breaths, closing her eyes, trying to clear her mind again. None of these thoughts would be helpful in spending three weeks with him, under his direct supervision. She imagined her body covered in a cool glass shell, impenetrable, still, untouchable, unbothered.

When I open my eyes, nothing in this world can touch me. Nothing in this world will upset me.

She opened her eyes, a small smile on her face under the mask, eyes cool and calm behind her sunglasses. She watched Melancholia.

When they landed, Konan was the first off the plane. She noticed a few people photographing her at the arrivals gate, like they thought she was some kind of influencer. She rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses and looked for her father's usual driver, but Jean wasn't waiting for her. She looked at all the signs held up, looking for her name, but couldn't see anything.

Weird…

Just as she pulled out her phone to double-check she hadn't received an email with new instructions, her name was announced over the airport loudspeakers with an instruction to come to the front desk.

She headed over, pulling up her sunglasses.

At the desk, a woman in a navy blue uniform with a sleek up-do said that a message had been left for her.

"The message is…" the lady said, pulling something up on her computer, "Quoting here, 'Some business has come up, and your father is unable to make time to see you. A room has been booked for you at the Hilton. Your return flight leaves from here at the original date and time. Please stay in the hotel until your return."

Konan's jaw dropped. "That's it!?" she exclaimed.

The front desk lady's carefully plucked eyebrows arched upwards. Konan cleared her throat. "Sorry. Thank you," she said, sliding her sunglasses back down and stepping back.

She walked away and leaned against the wall, pulling out her phone. She called her dad's number.

It picked up at once.

"Konan, hello."

"Hi Holly," Konan said, instantly recognizing her father's PA. "Can I talk to my dad?"

"I suppose you received the message about the change in plans?"

"I sure did, yeah," she snapped.

"Tone."

Konan bit her lips and sighed. "Sorry," she apologized.

Holly, rightfully, reminded her all the time that just because she was mad at her father, it didn't mean she had any right to vent it on her.

"I did just get the message. Can I talk to him about it?"

Holly hummed in amusement. "Would you like me to put you on hold for an hour before talking to me about it, or would you like to just talk to me now?

"Fine," Konan sighed. "I guess you know all about this hotel thing?"

"Since I'm the one who booked it for you, yes I do. You're welcome, by the way. It's a nice room."

"Why don't you stay in it, then?" Konan asked, trying hard not to sound as annoyed as she felt. "I don't want to stay in a hotel for three weeks! I wanted to stay with my friends!"

"Friends?"

Konan bit the inside of her cheek. "Nobody."

"There you go," Holly said. "There's no need to worry your father with your social life."

"Fine. Could you please pass a message on to my dad when he is available, then?"

"Verbatim, or do you want me to adjust your tone?" Holly asked. Konan could hear the wry smile in her voice.

"Please adjust my tone," Konan said. "Alright. Dear dad, I was really looking forward to spending time with you during my break from classes, spending the holidays with you, and attending the… whatever… art event thing…"

"Art Basel."

"Sure. As I am unable to see you during the break—"

Holly cleared her throat, interrupting her. "We're opening with this: 'Dear Dad, As always, I am incredibly grateful for your focus on business, to provide for myself and my mother, not to mention the benefit of your shareholders and employees. It is always a joy to spend time with you, and I understand that on this occasion, something vital came up preventing this. Thank you for generously arranging alternative accommodations for me. I look forward to seeing you as soon as may be possible.'"

"Um… laying it on a little thick, aren't you?" Konan asked, bemused.

She heard Holly laugh lightly. "I sense something he won't like coming up, so I'm trying to soften the blow."

"Right. Okay, so… yadda yadda… 'I would like to politely decline the kind gift of the hotel room you booked for me, as I would like to retain my focus on my studies, and so I would like to go back to school for the break, in order to continue to make the most of this incredible experience.' How's that?"

"Not bad. Are you asking him or telling him?"

"Telling him."

"And how exactly are you going to get back to school?" Holly asked. Konan could hear the rapid clack of her keyboard in the background.

"You can't change the flight dates?"

"I'm sure it's not impossible."

"Well… hopefully that works, then. I don't suppose you could send me money for another taxi? He put my money in a fu– in a trust or something."

"Language. And, well, technically that was me, at his direct request," Holly said. "You can't pay for a tattoo on your card and not expect that to happen, Konan."

Konan rolled her eyes, furious at herself all over again for how stupid she had been.

"It was my money, though. I earned it!"

"Your father considers finances to be a family matter, particularly as you are still a minor."

Konan took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"Well, it was unhelpful. I can't pay for anything now."

"You sure paid for a coffee at a police station in November just fine. Konan, please don't forget that I have to give all your bank statements to your father… I don't like having to share information that will disappoint him."

The bottom dropped out of Konan's stomach. "Hold on, hold on… did he see that!?"

"What was it about?"

"Nothing! Nothing, I… lost something. So I was making a report."

"Uh-huh," Holly said, like she didn't believe a word. Which was fair. "Lucky for you I caught that and managed to edit the statement before he asked for it. You're welcome."

"Thank you! Oh my god, that would have been, um…"

Konan's heart was pounding. She had been completely distracted, worried about her police interview, having fun with Ino, and had totally forgotten about that…

"Well, in any case, I certainly can't transfer you any funds before I'm able to pass on your message and before I get his approval to do so. I don't have that much power, contrary to popular opinion. It looks like you've got enough to get you back to school from the airport."

"Okay, thanks. Anything else?"

"Yep, I've managed to re-book your flight. I'll email you the information. And… you're going to have to submit a very detailed report of what you accomplish over the break."

"Is he going to read it?"

"No, but I will. And he'll ask me if it sounds like you're working hard, and I don't like to lie to him, obviously."

"Fine. Plus the usual reports?"

"Naturally. Have fun with your friends."

She hung up.

Konan breathed a huge sigh of relief, and headed out the doors, back to the 'Departures' side of the airport.

—

It was evening the next day when she arrived back outside St. Misery, looking forward to surprising her friends. She had been watching the taxi rate calculator nervously, but luckily she had just enough in her account for the fee plus a tip. The car reversed, turned around, and headed back up the snowy drive. Konan walked up to the doors, slipping a little in her heeled boots, and pulled the wrought iron door handle.

It didn't budge.

Konan tried again— nothing. She frowned, looking around. There were no cars parked out front, not even Tsunade's.

"Umm… fuck," she said to herself.

She had been focused on the planned trip to Italy; she had not , apparently, paid any attention to announcements about when the school would be closing.

She pulled out her phone, but knew it wasn't much help— she hadn't added any of her friends' numbers to the old one, and the new one was in her dorm room, locked upstairs. She tapped a fingernail against Pain's necklace — their contact info was on there, but she needed a computer or something to plug the USB into, and she'd left her laptop behind, in her room.

"Um…"

Konan was starting to get a bit cold. She looked down at the high heeled boots she was still wearing. She'd been worried about what would happen to the clothes she wore to the airport, so on her way there, she'd just been wearing her beat-up converse, which would be even worse in the snow.

She pulled off the long black designer coat and scarf, trying to ignore the cutting wind, and put her ugly sweater back on underneath them. It wasn't much, but it was a bit better.

While she had the school's wifi, she figured she should probably use it, keeping in mind the spyware apps on her phone. She logged into her bank to check the account.

18.75.

She had 18.75 in her account.

"Fuck!"

Ok, calm down. Step one, find somewhere with a computer I can use. No, step one, go to the bus stop. Step two, go to town. Thank god for my bus pass… Step three, find a computer. Maybe at the library. Step four, call Pain or maybe Sasori if everyone's going to his place… I hope it's not far away…

Steps one and two ended up working out pretty well. Thankfully her student bus pass didn't expire until December 31st, so she was able to catch the bus into town without paying the cash fare. She was freezing cold while waiting, but luckily the bus itself had been warm.

She got funny looks from several passengers, in her designer clothes and obviously brand new Birkin bag, and her lumpy old sweater. She got off the bus in town, and headed for the library, but it had closed two hours ago. She tried to think of any other places that would have free-to-use computers, and landed on an e-café, but by the time she reached the only one in town, staggering through the snow, it too had closed.

Panicking slightly, she found a 24-hour coffee shop, bought the cheapest thing she could, and sat down, warming her hands on the paper cup and shivering.

16.00 in her bank account.

—

The next morning, Konan bought a tiny travel toothpaste and toothbrush from the pharmacy, and headed to the library to warm up, brush her teeth, and use the computer. She was stiff, achy, cold, exhausted, and she had 11.50 in her bank account.

She plugged the USB stick into one of the freely accessible computers and sighed with relief as the folder with everyone's contact info came up. She was about to dial Pain's number when she came up short— last time they'd talked about it, he'd said it would probably be best if she didn't use this phone to contact them.

For the first time in over a month, Konan pulled herself up short wondering why on earth she had to be so sneaky about having friends, why her dad, or someone working for him, was spying on her phone, to what extent he was doing so.

It's weird, but is it bad? What is he hoping to see, or worried about seeing?

She borrowed a pen and paper from the librarian and wrote down all her friends' numbers and addresses, and wrote down directions to Sasori's place from her current location. Unfortunately, it was most of a day away by train.

She bought a granola bar from the convenience store across the way, got cash back, and used a payphone in the library atrium to call Pain.

He picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," she said.

"Hey! How's it going?"

"Uh… Well, my dad canceled the trip and wanted me to stay in a hotel by myself for three weeks…"

"Seriously?"

"...So I came back, but the school is closed."

"Oh no! Where are you now?"

"I'm at the library in town. I got your number from the necklace, so that's coming in handy already."

"Awesome! Are you able to get the train to Sasori's?"

Konan bit her lip. "Well… I should be able to get there somehow," she said, trying to sound confident. "I might take the train."

"Want me to come down and get you? You'll have to wait a bit for me to get there, but I'm happy to do it."

"No, you'd be on the bus for like nine hours," she said, hitching a smile to her face. "I'll just come up and meet you.

"Okay, if you're sure. If you take the train, it looks like that should get into the local stop around 6pm. I can meet you there?"

"That would be great. I was wondering, by the way…"

She took a deep breath— she had a gut feeling but really did not want to be right.

"Do you think there's likely to be a GPS tracker or something on my old phone? Along with the mirror apps you found?"

Pain was quiet for a minute. "I would have said it's not unlikely, but… You said your dad never found out about you going to that Paramore concert, right? Or going to parties with your friends?"

"Yeah, he didn't know."

"Then you're probably fine," Pain reasoned.

Konan sighed with relief. "Thank goodness," she said. "Okay, I'll figure out—" She caught herself. "I'll figure out the way to the station, get a ticket, and hopefully be there at 6pm."

"Yeah, okay. Can you maybe buy a burner phone to call us with?"

"Um, maybe. Okay, I'd better get going…"

"Okay. Promise you'll call or text me if you can if you need anything?"

"Uh-huh. Bye."

Konan returned to the computer, chewing the inside of her cheek as she looked up directions to the Greyhound stop in town. As she checked how long it would take her to get there and the time of the next bus, she called Holly again.

"Konan, I actually have a very busy and a lot of work to do," Holly said as soon as she answered, sounding harassed.

"I hardly ever call you!"

"Keep it that way. What do you need?"

"How do you feel about an overdraft?"

"What could you possibly need to purchase now? You arrived back at school safely. From what I can see, you purchased a coffee in town last night. Late study session?"

Konan gritted her teeth. "How comforting it is to know you keep such a close eye on me."

"That's my job. Your father cares about your wellbeing," Holly said vaguely.

"Right. About the overdraft?"

"Your request for an advance on your allowance is pending. If there is a necessary purchase in the meantime, I'm sure your father won't begrudge you. The overdraft limit is quite small, though. To prevent frivolous spending."

When the hell do I even buy ANYTHING!? He wouldn't have to worry about fucking overdrafts if he hadn't taken my money, anyway!

Konan took another deep breath. Visualized her mind stilling like a pond after a mayfly took flight.

"I found some beautiful reference materials in town for a project I am working on. It's at an open-air market, and they're cash-only, but they would be so useful. I might hit the overdraft when taking cash out at the ATM."

Holly made a suspicious humming noise. "Your father doesn't like it when you get cash out, Konan."

I can hardly use my card to buy a train ticket though, can I!? He'd completely freak out.

"Is there anything else I could do?"

"Go back to school," Holly said, and hung up.

Konan threw her phone furiously back into her bag, tears springing at the corners of her eyes.

If she asked Pain to come and get her, plus pay for her ticket, it would cost him a couple hundred dollars. She had absolutely no idea if he could afford that, and it felt like a ridiculous ask when they'd only been going out for about two weeks.

Maybe she could just phone again and lie, say she wasn't coming after all, and find somewhere… a shelter or something, to sleep in, if she could.

She drummed her fingers on the table, trying to ignore the grumbling of her stomach. Her eyes fell on the Birkin bag.

I'm a moron. At least this shit might come in useful.

Konan quickly logged onto Craigslist on the library computer and made a post. She wasn't super optimistic, since the town wasn't that big – if she didn't get a response in an hour, she might have to just start approaching people on the street or something – but it was worth a try.

A quick Google made her pause, though, jaw hanging open.

Why did you give me such a fucking expensive bag!?

She phoned Holly again, who this time was definitely in a bad mood.

"Konan—"

"Who decides what to buy me, when you send me clothes for the airport? Does my dad decide? Does he know what you guys get for me?"

"For goodness' sake! Why are you asking so many questions!?"

"Does he know what you get me to wear? Does he know!? "

"He provides a budget. He provides instructions and expectations. Myself and his PR team make the purchases. He is not a man who cares about womens' fashion, Konan."

"Is he going to ask for this back!?"

"Why would he bother!? Now, stop calling me!"

She hung up.

Konan changed tack instantly. She couldn't just sell this bag on Craigslist. Aside from anything else, nobody in this town would possibly have that much money, and it was absurdly reckless to essentially give it away for a couple hundred bucks. But if she kept it, and found a way to sell it later, she would have more than enough to run away as soon as she turned eighteen. Go someplace else, completely start again.

She was absolutely certain her father had never gotten her anything so valuable just to wear at the fucking airport before. If he ever insisted she wear couture to an event or something stupid, they were always rentals, or else he'd take them back and put them in a glass case, loan them out for an exhibition or something like that. She'd never paid much attention, had always been more focused on counting down the minutes when she could leave the event, get out of whatever she was wearing, and leave him.

Is he just more distracted or something? Why does he care how much I'm spending, but not how much his assistants are spending on stupid stuff I'm never going to use again!?

Rolling her eyes, Konan edited her Craigslist ad to sell the sunglasses instead. She put them up for about fifty percent of their worth; more than enough for bus tickets and food, and definitely cheaper than you could get them at a store, with instructions to meet her at the library within two hours, and to pay in cash.

Nobody responded to the post, but Konan wasn't too discouraged. She headed over to the train station anyway, buying a coffee on her way to keep her warm.

At the depot, she wandered around, approaching likely-looking people, steeling herself, trying not to come off as creepy.

"Hey, I know this is weird, but, I have these sunglasses, they're Prada – I just need cash, so I'm happy to sell them at a really good discount…"

She caught the eye of a man sitting in a chair, reading a newspaper, smirking as another woman shook her off. She went pink and looked away, feeling like he was laughing at her.

After a few attempts, the security guard came over to tell her she couldn't be harassing people at the depot.

The man with the newspaper got his phone out, apparently laughing under his breath as the security guard walked away from her.

She turned to face the wall, looking up, trying really hard not to cry.

She was freezing cold. She was exhausted. She was hungry. She had absolutely no way to get where she wanted to go. She had absolutely no alternative places to stay. She swallowed hard, and looked around the concrete atrium for a payphone. She'd just have to call Pain, and promise to pay him back as soon as she could.

She turned around to find the newspaper man walking towards her, tucking his paper under his arm and smiling.

"Hey. I'll buy your sunglasses," he said, grinning at her.

She looked at him uncertainly. "Really?"

He nodded, scratching his unshaven jaw. "For sure. Or rather, why don't I make it easier — I'll buy your ticket. Where are you heading?"

Konan told him nervously, hardly daring to believe her luck as he nodded and headed to the desk. "That's where I'm headed, anyway," he said over his shoulder as he paid for her.

He gave her her ticket and she handed him the glasses.

"Cheers. Saves me getting my wife a Christmas present."

Konan smiled at him.

"What's your name?"

A habit formed from people never getting her name right at coffee shops kicked in immediately.

"Katie."

"Nice to meet you," he said. "I'm John."

They got on the train together. Konan sat by the window, and he sat diagonally opposite her, putting his feet up on the seat next to her with a yawn. He reopened his newspaper. He smelled really strongly of smokes. Konan put her earbuds in, but kept having to take them out as he occasionally asked her questions.

"Heading home for the holidays?"

"No, I'm staying with friends."

"Not your family?"

"No."

"Your parents must be pretty relaxed, then. If my daughter didn't come home for Christmas…"

"My dad's busy."

"Mum?"

"She's in hospital."

"I'm sorry to hear that, that must be really hard."

"Kind of. Thanks."

It continued for most of the trip, Konan trying to give as short answers as possible. He went on his phone for a while and Konan listened to music, watching the scenery fly by, listening to the announcements for each stop, waiting for the right one.

"Is that your natural hair colour?" The man looked at her, grinning, like he knew he was being silly.

Konan laughed awkwardly and shook her head, just wanting the conversation to be over already.

He raised his eyebrows. "You have very striking eyes, too."

Konan shifted uncomfortably, pulling her coat around herself. "Um, thanks."

He didn't say anything else, just looked at her for a minute, then went back to his phone. As casually as possible, Konan took the black face mask out of her bag and slipped it on, coughing self-consciously to pretend she was a little sick, and didn't just want to hide her face from him a little, much good as it would do her now.

She was starting to feel kind of uncomfortable. She wished he'd take his feet off the seat next to her. After catching him looking at her over his phone a couple times, she just pretended to fall asleep, her face turned to the window, arms wrapped around herself.

She wished she could text Pain. Or just get away from this guy without him getting offended, especially after he bought her ticket… There was nothing particularly off about him, but the glances at her were pretty weird.

She kept an eye on the time. When her stop was announced as the next up, she got up.

"Bathroom," she said, smiling.

"No problem," he said, folding his legs off the seat with a smile. There was a tiny pause before he said, "Katie."

Konan half-glanced at him as she crossed in front of him. His expression was pleasant, but there was something in his gaze that unnerved her.

She smiled at him and walked away down the train to the sign for the washroom, trying not to hurry.

She opened the door to the washroom, pretended to see a big line up inside, and kept walking down the train. A cool female voice announced her stop. A few cars down, there was another bathroom. She looked over her shoulder.

John was following her, a while back, hands in his pockets.