Runaway (first 8 chapters)

Chapter 6

Benjamin narrowed his eyes, trying to see if Grace really meant what she said, and Grace tried to use her years' worth of experience from watching her parents' smooth covers and escapes to pull on her best acting face. Even if she was lying, no one could tell what was behind her white smile. "Really, I mean it! I've realized that the life of fame's not for me, even for the money," Grace laughed, "and I hope you can accept me as part of your group, even as a third wheel?" Benjamin didn't meet Grace's eyes, but Grace knew he was already ensnared in her trap. "Hey, there's an art gallery going on on Thursday, super rich people are gonna be there, like those art-loving fanatics who'll buy scribbles for a million, know what I mean? Our parents won't be on the guest list, but my friend is going there, she invited me and..." Grace paused for effect, and it seemed to work as Benjamin looked up at her. "You can take the invite." Benjamin stared at her again, not believing anything coming out of her mouth. "Serious! Here," Grace bent down and took an envelope out of her black lace-up boots, "the invitation. Andrea gave it to me right before my performance, the silly goose, so I've had to carry it all this time. And now it's yours. Take it. You won't see me there, but I'll give you Andrea's number so you have one familiar person." Grace's smile seemed so genuine, Benjamin was starting to fall for it. He knew trusting her was almost the same as turning himself over back to his old life, but after everything that had happened that day, he was incredibly tired and feared his life not only from the crimson gleam he'd learnt to avoid, but also from the sinister laugh he heard after running from the abandoned mansion. It had haunted him ever since, not leaving his mind for a second, not giving him time to process everything.

And he had just broken up with his boyfriend too.

With nowhere to go, nothing to lose, and almost nothing to live for, Benjamin agreed to go to the art gallery, a decision he was sure he would regret. Grace was indescribably overjoyed. Her plan had actually worked this time. Benjamin was starting to trust her, and soon he would come back to the safe side. She would make sure of it. "Great, then here's Andrea's number! She's the gal who gave me the invite." Grace showed her phone to Benjamin. Benjamin gulped. "I, uh, don't have a phone..." "Can you memorize the number?" Benjamin looked at the listed number long and hard. He tried to hurry so he wouldn't waste anymore of Grace's time, but this way his brain didn't process any of the digits. "Take your time," said Grace, still smiling, holding her phone patiently. This time Benjamin managed to memorize the phone number, going over it in his head as he confirmed he was finished and Grace put her phone back in her purse. "Well then, see you later! You can introduce me to...what's his name? Pi...pico? Or something like that. Later, Benji!" The singer skipped away, ignoring Benjamin's hurt face, humming a tune. If she was excited before, she was over the moon now. Once she was safely backstage, away from any unwanted ears, she quickly typed in Andrea's number and called her. She picked up almost immediately. "What's up girlie?" "I got Benji- ahem, Benjamin!" "Really? That's so good!" "Yeah, I know! Well, almost. He's still distrustful." "I'm guessing you have a plan?" "'Course I do, bestie! I gave him my invitation, and tomorrow you're gonna show him around." "Invitation...? Ohhh, the art gallery?" "Yeah, the one your dad's hosting." "Anything for you, G! And put in a good word for you?" "Like, of course!" "Got it." Andrea cut the call, leaving Grace to continue building her scheme as she watched the victimized painter from the shadows.

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"Again?" Mia grumbled as she drove to Marilyn's house once again, her friend claiming it was an emergency related to Benjamin. She had things to do, places to be, a whole singing career to uplift, but she put her friend before all that. As she pulled into the fancy driveway, Marilyn was waiting on the steps, just like last time, except for the fact that she was talking on the phone with someone. Mia parked her car and walked towards her friend. Marilyn noticed her and showed her hand, fingers oustretched - five more minute. Or seconds. "H-hey, I'm gonna have to call you back," she said, ending the call as if it wasn't important. Mia hoped it wasn't, or she'd never forgive herself for interrupting. "Mi-mi! You were taking so long I thought you'd ditched me!" Marilyn squealed, as she always did, giving Mia a hug. "Okay, what's wrong now?" Mia spoke after a few moments, pushing Marilyn off her. "Oh! I need you to use your li'l demon powers and make a love potion for me!" said Marilyn excitedly, clasping her hands together. "Well, for Benjamin." "Why? So he can love you and come back? I assume he ran away because he hates you guys." A sharp ruby gleam flashed over Marilyn's eyes for just a second, but Mia caught it. Marilyn continued smiling. "The reason our little Benjamin ran off is because he was in love with that...city rat, ugh. Blinded by false love. Even we can't figure out why he would choose him over Grace." "Grace?" "You know, Gigi? Our families are close friends." Grace didn't have a good stage name in mind, so she chose Gigi because of her initials, G.G. "Oh, she performed last night?" "Yup, her. She's the perfect match for Benjamin! His future wife! So if we had a love potion..." Marilyn raised her eyebrows with a smirk. "...Benjamin would fall in love with Gi- Grace, and come back!" said Mia, figuring out her plan. "Exactly! You should have guessed," Marilyn winked. "So...how about it?" "Well..." Mia thought about her offer. Creating a love potion was a simple task she could complete easily if she had the right ingredients. This was her chance to get payment from her friend though. They were rich, and had a lot of money, but so was she, so she had to be creative and ask for something else. After a while, she said, "Yeah, sure. But on a condition." "Of course! What do you need?" "I'll need the ingredients, which GRACE has to fetch," Mia didn't trust her friend to be able to tell the difference between a fresh banana and a rotten one, "and I get to duet with her in her next performance. Deal?" "I don't have to do anything? Yeah deal!" Marilyn started acting like a child who had just seen candy and squeezed Mia with another hug. "Ch-ch-choking, Marilyn," Mia gasped, panting for air as Marilyn let go with her sweet smile. The one she showed to the public. "Come by tomorrow, and Grace'll be here for you two to talk things out. Just, I really miss my son." Marilyn pulled on her most desperate, soft face, which Mia fell for like the stupid, gullible idiot she was, according to Marilyn. "I'll be here," Mia agreed, unable to say no to the popstar.

Mia, being rich herself, had her own limousine, though it still couldn't compare to the Fairests'. In all honesty, Mia had no idea how to create a love potion herself, even with her demonic powers. But she hadn't wanted to disappoint her friend in the moment, so she agreed to the idea. So currently she was driving Grace to her favorite spot to buy "interesting" goods, maybe they would have a love potion - the Bahebfidomug. No, that wasn't a typo. Mia always complained to them about their name, but the small group insisted that this name fit with their organization's title the best. Mia knew they were just being lazy. The tall city buildings had given way to trees, and the trees had given way to grass, and the grass had given way to dirt, which eventually led to sand. An endless desert of sand. "Are you sure you're driving us to the right place?" Grace asked worriedly, looking at a passing tumbleweed, something she had only seen in old western movies. "Relax. A base's gotta set camp out of town," said Mia nonchalantly, not looking at Grace. After a few more minutes of driving, Mia slowed down in supposedly the middle of nowhere, only tall mountains in the distance and a single shrub on the inside of the road, and said, "We're here." "What? Where?" Grace demanded. "Where are we?" Mia ignored her and stopped the car. "Look and you'll see." She got out of the limousine, so Grace followed. There was one other thing in this area. A large gray tent, about as big as a fourth of Grace's bedroom. A shelf of several wooden crates, filled to the brim with fresh produce, were placed in the center, blocking direct access inside, though you could clearly see through the sizable gap above it. Apples, ears of corn, celery, a collection of watermelons - Grace wondered how anyone could grow such things in the desert. Or maybe they were magic? At the sound of a car door slamming, two figures appeared at the front counter. They both wore hats, each a different color. "Who...? Oh. It's you. And...whoever you are." The person with the red cap spoke, crossing his arms.