Be Gay Do Crime (I'll come up with a better name for it later)

Prologue

January 8, 2019

A young woman stood outside the Norton Simon Museum, empty portfolio in hand, as she waited for the signal.

Her stomach churned, was she really about to go through with this? She began to rethink every decision that led her there, but she didn't get very far before she felt her burner phone buzz in her pocket:

In the system. Let's go. -V

Bianca took a deep breath, Too late to turn back now. Her grip tightened on the portfolio and she entered the museum.

The lobby bustled with life, hundreds of people crowded their way to the east wing in hopes to get a glance of the new exhibit. But she went the other way, looking for a quiet display room. After stopping only briefly to admire Degas' oil paintings, she found herself in a barren exhibit room with nothing but a large Jackson Pollock painting on the wall. Bianca cringed at the eyesore. She never understood how people considered that art. She rolled her eyes and pulled the flip phone out from her pocket:

In position. Cut the feed. -C

She flipped the burner phone shut and casted a quick glance at the security camera just as it went limp. She checked the time; five minutes until the cameras came back on, she had to get going.

She threw on a pair of gloves and zipped through the museum, doing her best to make it all the way across the Norton Simon as fast as possible without looking suspicious. As she walked, the rooms grew hotter and hotter. She took comfort in the increase of temperature, things were going to plan. She re-entered the lobby and without hesitation, she plunged into the mass of people that surrounded the west wing. It wasn't easy, but she managed to weave her way to the front where she was able to get a good look at the new paintings on display.

Monet's Water Lilies. They were even more beautiful in person.

She stood in front of the three paintings, frozen in awe. She had learned about Monet and his works all her life, it was a dream come true to see some of them in person. Bianca's eyes landed on the center painting, Evening Effect. She wanted to cry at the sight of her all time favorite painting.

Get a hold of yourself. You've got a job to do. She shook her head to snap herself out of her daze, flicked her eyes up to make sure the camera's were still down, and dissolved back into the crowd. Resurfacing in the far corner, she slowly tucked her hand behind her back and leaned against the wall. Her fingers curled around the fire alarm, eyes sweeping the room one last time before pulling the trigger.

The blaring alarm pierced her ears. She instinctively squeezed her hands against her ears as panicked voices rose from the crowd and the exhibit room began to empty out. Her heart raced, she knew she only had about sixty more seconds before the bars would come down and she'd be trapped. she bolted to the paintings, stretching out her gloved hands towards the center canvas. She hesitated for a split second, knowing as soon as she touched that frame nothing would ever be the same for her, but she reached out anyway, plucking the painting off the wall and shoving it into the portfolio.

She heard the sound of grinding metal over her shoulder. The bars were coming down.

Her hands started to shake, her breath quickened as she sprinted out just as the metal bars came down over her head. She didn't have time to look back, she kept running and she didn't stop until she reached the masses that were still in the lobby and were gradually filling out through the door.

She clutched the portfolio close to her chest, glancing around she realized that it looked kind of suspicious so she dropped it to her side, doing everything she could to look like another art student from the nearby college. Her entire body was tense, tenser than she ever thought it could be. She let the crowd absorb her and she followed the people out of the museum.