"𝙒𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧!"
A brutal terrorist attack had sent the world into a frenzy. A series of murders, numbers of buildings being bombed, and missing people cases had all traced back to the grandmaster, you of...
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THE SAME MAN sat at the bar. His hair was still the same fake blond. His eyes were the same fake, disgusting brown, it only looked disgusting on that liar. Fake, that is all he is and all he can and will be. Insane is what that man is, and why the fuck does he keep talking about birds? 'Ota' saw you from the crowd (you can guess it's from how casual your outfit looked) and waved you over. You had planned on keeping low profile, since you believed they wouldn't be here before afternoon, but you can't ignore him now since he already saw you.
"Good morning (fake name), I didn't expect you to come this early!" He says, putting an emphasis on your fake identity, "Oh, excuse my manners for forgetting your name, (name)." Disgusting creature he is. You hate this man to your core for simply doing all of this and acting as though everything is fine.
He orders you a drink as you respond. "That isn't my name Ota. My name is (fake name)." Acting dumb is one thing you are exceptionally well at. You hesitantly grab the drink he ordered for you, as he leans in just a bit closer.
He smirks, oh, how you wish you could wipe it right off his face. "Oh my, I must've gotten confused with someone else. My apologies, dear." He keeps leaning in closer as you are practically reclining in your stool. You are starting to feel uncomfortable as you can almost feel his breath, the drink is still being clutched in your hands. Your face remained stoic, but truly, you simply wanted to rip out his organs and make him eat it.
"No, it is no problem at all, everyone makes mistakes." You fake accepting his apology, it is clear he can sense that. He leans in just another bit closer. The tips of both noses are touching, you can feel his eyes scan every single crevice of your face. To him, the word 'perfection' simply undermines your beauty. Your eyes held that of a dead man who rose from the grave, yet his eyes felt familiarity within yours, the connection of two lovers who will soon become intertwined as one. Wrinkles were prominent if one looked close enough, each one was carved carefully into your being to not break your once fragile disposition, now hardened by society. Another's breath on his skin could set him into fight or flight, but your shaky yet somehow calm breath caressed his face lovingly, for you would never do such a thing for a pathetic excuse of a human as him.
He feels familiarity with you, he feels safe with you, and that in itself is terrifying.
A hand that isn't yours is felt upon the handle of the glass, he leans in closer, if that can be possible, and tips your glass of red wine over onto his pure white suit. Your eyes slightly widen, this was an outcome you were expecting, but not now.
He looks down at his now impure, stained suit in fake shock, darting his widened eyes back to you and his clothes. He soon returns his gaze to you with fury in his eyes, it's amazing how astounding of an actor he is, he must've been an actor since he was pushed out from his mother. He balls his fist in fake fury once again, and rises up from the red cushioned stool. His eyes of fake lies bore into yours of blankness and boredom. You are bored out of your mind, you can see through that act of his, how annoying. The bartender looks between the two of you, while guests start to turn their eyes towards the scene that is about to start.
Murmurs and whispers surround all around, eyes are on the two of you. It looked as though you two were western cowboys sparring with their guns, only that this time, it is a fake jester and person (are you really?) sitting on their stool simply staring at the man. Staff can sense what they think is about to ensue, and start to call the managers office number for assistance.
"YOU... RUINED MY SUIT! DO YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE IT WAS TO GET THIS?!" He starts his theatrics in the middle of a crowd, you are simply too tired to respond to the man. He looks at you in fake anger, his eyes form into an expression of confusion before masking it again, he must've thought you shut down. You will not start a bigger scene here, this is not your problem, the sooner you can get done the better. Guests from the games leave their activities and surround you two, the staff stand awkwardly while a select few try to break the two of you apart. The man screams in fake anger, again. His scream are unintelligible, or maybe you have tuned out his annoyance of a voice, or may you say his fake voice. You noticed, his voice slightly changed pitches in a way that is unnatural, he could either have an amazing vocal range, or he is simply faking his voice to not be recognized.
You cross your leg over the other and lazily put your other hand not holding a almost empty glass behind your head. You look at him blankly, he should simply stop screaming, it may ruin his voice, and you will not be responding anytime soon. The crowd goes quiet, save for a few whispers, when footsteps of heeled boots are heard. The simple melody of boots against a marble tile send the casino into a state of silence. The man once screaming at you, now has gone silent in (fake) shock, he is obvious. His act is always up no matter what, it is tiring to be around someone who cannot show their true heart.
A voice that is familiar from your first day here rings out, "Now, what happened again?" The manager says, exasperated. His eye bags are prominent compared to his pale skin and light hair. The crowd makes a pathway towards the two for him. His footsteps reach closer to your ears as you look up and see his absolutely gorgeous side profile, he simply side eyes both of you, specifically you. When they have tried to recruit others for their useful ability, whenever one from their ranks have done such things like this, they always were too weak, and were eliminated. They always yelled loud enough to shake the casino, or simply shut down, you had done neither. Though from an outside perspective it seemed you had gone into dreamland, you were simply looking through the eyes of the tired, listening into every word said.
"You two, follow me. Now." He commands with utmost respect for himself, the man once yelling now follows behind the manager in shame with his head low. You walk behind the manager with a head held up high, you did nothing wrong, everyone else is simply incorrect. The manager turns around in one swift movement, making his hair and cloak swish in the air and follow behind him. You two follow after him as the crowd watches all three leave.
