Chris:
Throughout my whole life, my organisation and dedication to achieving my goals resulted in me becoming the person I am today.
Basketball and soccer. Swimming classes. Piano classes. Additional tuition.
Being the best student in the class. Being the best player in the team.
My parents, especially my mother, ensured that whatever I lacked off was only a temporary problem that needed fixing. That it could be fixed.
Even during the confusing years of puberty and my early 20s, when my body, voice and mentality changed. I tried my best to stick to my consistency. To my schedule. That gave me a secure hold to believe in towards my goals. Having a routine that I could always count on and replay that even on bad days, in my worst days, helped me through the day and towards what I was working for.
Sure, I had girlfriends throughout high school and university in my 20's. And I had tried my best to treat them how they deserved to be treated with attention, love and care. They were important in my life but not the most important aspect. As selfish as it may sound to some. I was the main character of my life and therefore the main and only person to achieve my goals, to make the decisions that would influence the results, the end of each chapter of my life.
I have loved, and I have been loved. But I always kept a hold of myself from falling astray from my goals. I wanted to achieve the humanly most possible combination of perfection. In my career. As a son. As a friend. As a partner.
Consistency was the key to everything.
As of late, everything was crumbling and falling apart.
The solid bridge I had built my entire life trembled underneath my feet.
It was going to be a painful fall, even if I knew that it meant I would be reunited with her. With Cerise.
The woman with the ocean blue eyes in the painting at the Anderson Lin murder scene... it was a painting of her. It was Cerise. I realized it after the meeting after I had seen the picture in which Greenaway showed us the picture of her being the so-called "biggest treasure" among the white pearl.
How on earth did you get into this whole mess Cerise? Did they force you? What happened to you? Why did you disappear 20 years ago? What were they doing to you?
"I'm not allowed to", the girl with the ginger locks whispered. Then she looked around.
"You're not allowed to come over and play?" I looked at Cerise, the badminton rockets in my hands. One for her, one for me.
"No, he will find out", she whispered even quieter, and I could barely hear her over the fence.
"Isn't your dad at work? My dad comes home from work in the evening."
"I... I can't. I have to go."
She became one of the dark angels... one of the most desired ones if there was any truth to be believed in from Greenaway's words. The most important one.
The thought of it alone raised the bile in my throat.
The last time I saw you, Cerise... your ocean-blue eyes looked sadder than the ocean had ever been. Filled with tears, but none slipped passed by; none escaped. How much did I miss back then?
We had always stood on opposite sides, hadn't we?
...
"Care to share?" Magnus threw a glance at me while he was driving the black van. To the destination, we were thrown into. We both knew why the office chose us to play undercover today. We were easy to pray. Sheep among multiple wolfgangs. Some of the youngest in the team of the "good guys". Easy to sacrifice without causing significant damage or loss to be replaced if anything went wrong. Easy to send a message. Easier to kill?
No wires, no microphones, no guns.
Once we were inside, we were on our own.
And our fate lay in the hands of god and the enemies.
We had a two-hour frame to spend at the party.
Two hours for me to find Isabelle. To talk to her.
Two hours to solve the growing puzzle in my mind.
