Monophobia |Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick|

001. The Bakery

Sip the gossip,

drink till you choke.

[CHAPTER ONE: THE BAKERY]

"EYES ON THE target, Gaz?"

"Aye, Captain." Gaz muttered softly into his earpiece. He stood at the sidewalk—across the street from the bakery. Where Makarov had hinted his next location to be. It churned his stomach to know such innocent people could get hurt. Let alone would be getting hurt. He pulled on his binoculars and peered into the little bakery, where people were bustling with soft chatter and gentle touches between them and their partners or friends. It was a lovely sight.

"Convoy ahead, engage as normal." Price ordered, and Gaz nodded. As if the man could see him.

Gaz tucked away his binoculars and pulled his hood up, stepping into the bakery. It was louder than he anticipated. A group of families, friends and just strangers meeting each other all spoke almost simultaneously, and it caused his heart to ache. He couldn't tell if it was from anxiety or just the heaviness of the mission, but his hands began to shake.

Keep it together, Kyle.

"Hello."

He looked up, and at the counter stood a beautiful woman. His hands began to tremble this time. She gave a dashing smile, and Gaz couldn't stop himself from smiling in return. He stepped up to the counter, doing his best to look anywhere but the woman's eyes. They were a piercing brown, and he swore they almost stabbed through him. Her hair was tied up into a small, low hanging bun with strands of hair hanging loosely in front of her face. She held such a dashing smile. So friendly and welcoming. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out. He was...nervous?

"I've never seen you around here before." She decided it would be best for her to speak first, and Gaz was silently thankful for that.

"Ah.." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm new to the city." He felt guilty for lying, but he couldn't compromise his mission. "Never been to New York before."

"Well, you've come to the right place." She hummed softly, taking a bite of a cookie in her hand. He had watched her pull it from the display case. "My bakery is the best in Brooklyn." She said.

A joke... she was just trying to joke with him. He found it flustering—a smile coming to his lips at her little joke. He chuckled and his eyes trailed over to the display case, where dozens of baked goods rested. It made his stomach twist, and forced him to remember he hadn't eaten since the day before. She followed his eyes and reached down into the display case, pulling a few cookies. One was frosted, one looked to be chocolate chip, and the other was...green? Such a strange color for a cookie.