The White Shadow 1: The Dancer

Chapter 3

"He called me Diane."

"...What?"
Diane retracted into herself, her arms protectively wrapped around her chest, her right leg crossed over her left, head shrinking into her shoulders. "I-I wasn't going to mention it, cause I thought you heard it in the earpiece, but since you didn't mention I-I"
"Fuck!"
Darryll slammed his fist into the wall next to his desk, leading to some rubble dribbling from the ceiling of his low rent apartment. "You aren't stupid, Diane, you realise what this fUCKing means!" He threw his knuckles at the blameless wall once more, and Diane recoiled in shock at the impact, followed by more crumbling ceiling. The words got caught in her throat. "I-I-I d-didn't realise it was-"
"It was what! Important? AARRRRGH!" Darryll's temper exploded in a furious yell, his voice hoarse as he shook the walls. The dim lanterns danced overhead. Then he noticed Diane, bundled up into herself like a turtle, tight, crimson eyes layered in tears, and Darryll's temper finally caught up with itself. He gasped slightly, then sighed, slumped heavily in his swiveling chair. After an exhausting long silence of consideration, he spoke, quietly and delicately, barely above the hum of the lights overhead. "Diane?" She opened her eyes warily. "Yes?"
"Diane," Darryll continued, "I'm very sorry. Again. I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that." His voice was a little too sweet, "I understand that you wouldn't want to think back to what Chromwell said, so you wouldn't have thought to tell me."
Diane loosened a little. "I accept your apology. Although your anger was justified. I should've-"
"Please," Darryll begged, "don't worry. Just understand this." He straightened in his chair and leaned back to face Diane more head on, "If my informant knew your name, then he knew more then he was letting on. And it's like I always say."
"Intel is half the battle."
"Exactly. And right now, we don't know how much Intel my informant has given our enemies on us. But luckily, I also know who our mole is out of my many sources of information."
Diane, now much more comfortable, asked, "Who?"
Darryll chuckled, "You wouldn't know them. Look." He got out of his chair and looked Diane directly in the eyes with as much kindness as he could muster. "I've made some bad choices today-"
"So have I" Diane chirped,
"Nonetheless," Darryll continued, "you deserve a break from this messy skedaddle of moles and murder. Though I can't promise a week of free time like usual, given the dangerous position we're in right now. But," Darryll clapped his hands, and gave himself a big smile, "I *can* promise you one day out with, as an apology, fifty pounds to spend on whatever you want."
Suddenly Diane was also beaming, "fifty! isn't that most of your rent?"
"Doesn't matter anymore" Darryll waved his hand dismissively, "So go ahead, do whatever you want, but be back by midnight. I'm a developer, so I don't sleep."
Diane thew her arms wide and flung them around Darryll who staggered back a little from the impact. She squeezed tight, "Thank you so much."
Darryll squeezed back. "No, thank you. You do so much for me."
The lights overhead flickered.

The Electro Swing Thing was a bar located within a quiet part of town that played electroswing only and had a dance floor for anyone who could comfortably do the Charleston. Whilst Diane was most certainly not that person, she still enjoyed a hot cup of Cappuccino to numb her doubts and trauma, met by the bartender who never seemed to tire of listening to his customers many woes. Today, as Diane sat behind the bar, sipping sparingly from her glass, the bar was fairly empty. There were four other people. Three at one table, another alone, with a glass of whiskey. She looked over as the bartender leaned over the counter. He was middle aged with gentle creases in his face and a warm smile. "So how did the big project go?"
Diane put down the glass, wiped her lips with a napkin, and sighed. "Not entirely according to plan, but better than it could've gone."
The bartender chuckled, "Your projects at work never seem to go according to plan, do they?"
Diane sighed again, "Mhm."

The bartender was talking about the plans to kill Chromwell and Vivàci, neither of which went well. Diane had told him that she worked in an apprenticeship IT job, and these projects were just her putting ideas forward to management with her Mentor, Darren. She disliked lying, but what else was she supposed to say, Guess what! Im not actually employed, but me and my other dropout roomie who pays the rent via hacking and the one free-to-play computer game he's made kill people to get back at a corrupt businessman who's giving people super powers! Yeah, that definitely wouldn't get Diane arrested at all.