Blood Type Zero

Caught red-handed

The man beside me-- slightly behind-- laughs. "Alright!" he said. His voice was clearly audible. He stood so close to me. 

I slowly turned to face him. I suddenly felt something warm and rough on my shoulders that I involuntarilly shrugged. His hands. Was he one of the spies? Was he about to apprehend me and put me in prison? My eyes widened in utter horror in utter horror as he said...

 "Excuse me." 

He motioned me away from him then passes by. 

I let out a breath of relief. So he wasn't some agent ready to arrest me after all. But I don't let my guard fall as he starts talking seriously with Mr. Vierzon. They both look dead serious. The stranger's eyes dart to the spot where he last stood. He was intensely looking for someone. 

I didn't take my chances. I slowly and casually headed to the door, passing behind other people as I made my way. I could feel his eyes on me. I started walking faster. 

I looked back at him and realize he's left the table and headed for me. My hands start to shake and my breathing falters. I was seriously going to spend a lifetime in prison. 

Just as I was about to reach for the door's handles. A very hot hand touches mine. 

I quickly swivel around and see the man staring straight at me. 

"You're cold." he says as he lets go. I don't dare say a word because I'm afraid I might give myself away if I stutter. "And you're sweating." he adds as he examines my face. Great. Thank you so much for spotting the obvious. I don't blame him, it's his job afterall. 

He takes out a hankerchief from his pocket. "Here," he hands it to me. I look to his hand then tentatively take it. I needed it badly. 

The plasticbag with the drug in between my breasts crackles at my movement. I hope he didn't hear it.

"So, umm... miss?" he asks for my name.

I took a minute to respond as I thought of an alias. If this all went horribly wrong, at least they wouldn't be able to search my name if I happened to escape. 

"Mary," I tell him. So lame! 

"Ahh. Mary," he repeats, "nice to meet you. My name's Dmitry." He gestured his hand open as if he were asking me for a dance.

I looked at it confusingly. Did he want to dance? There wasn't even anyone else who started dancing.  

I just stood there, staring at it stupidly for another minute.

"You're suppose to place your hand in mine." Dmitry patiently instructs me. I quickly and nervously place my hand in his, feeling like such an idiot. I smile to relieve the tention. But I felt my cheek twitch.

He leaned forward and brought my hand close to his face. Gently, he kissed it. I winced at the feel of his cool breath and soft lips. This felt very, very nostalgic.

While still leaning, he looked at me then slowly straightened himself. I was so confused. Did all french officials kiss the suspect's hand before arresting them?

I looked at him strangely, trying to see if he had any suspicions of me. He smirked.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" he amusingly asked with a chuckle. "I know I'm handsome, but please only stare when I'm not looking. It makes me feel queesy."

The sound of his laughter made me start breathing again. He didn't suspect me at all. I smiled shyly at the floor. It was a mixture of pure happiness and utter relief.

"How cute," he playfully says. I snap my head to him. 

"Cute?" I retort. He chuckles. 

Regaining composure, he becomes serious, "Now, Mary," he began. My heart skipped a beat. Please don't arrest me. I silently say in my head. Hearing a person call me by a different name made me feel weird. "You must be wondering why I've come for your attention." he continued.

"Yes. I really am." The words escape my mouth. He flinches at my honesty then impishly smiles. 

"I know we've just met. But can you do me a favor? Actually, can you do everyone a favor?" 

"What?" I incredulously ask.

He then explained. "The singer we hired for today's event couldn't make it. We need a temyporary replacement while we wait for another. Would you be willing to do it?" 

I looked at him like he was an alien from another planet. 

"Why me?" I quizzically asked.

He shrugged then looked to the corner where we both stood beside each other awhile ago. 

"I heard you sing." he said.

"Happy Birthday?" 

He nods. "Yes. I am a good judge of voices and I could say yours was pretty great. I'm sure you've performed infront of audiences before." 

"Yes, I have." I tell him. Before I worked as a painter, I had a part-time job as a singer in at a little club. "But I only sing jazz." I added. 

"That's great!" he says. "So you'll sing for us?"

I thought about it. What would Alliyah do? She'd definitely take the opportunity. She'd never turn this handsome man down.

"Okay." I answered.

Dmitry grinned delightedly. "Wonderful! Come with me." 

He started walking away and I followed close behind him. 

"Marx!" he called to Mr. Vierzon who worriedly looked at the paino. "I have found us a singer!"

Mr. Vierzon eyed me seriously after he nods. 

"She looks presentable enough. Does she know any spanish songs?" Mr. Vierzon asked.

Dmitry looked at me to answer the question myself. I sorted through my mind if I knew any. I knew a few.

"Yes, Mr. Vierzon." I answered. 

"Wonderful!" he said it the way Dmitry did. "Now go on up and entertain these people. They are throroughly bored with Terrance's jokes." he hastily says.

I didn't notice it, but Terrance was on stage-- stalling. He was still there when a waiter brought a mic-stand up then Dmitry ushered me on the stage also. Terrance puts the mic on the stand. 

"It's about time." he covers the mic with his hand then mutters to Dmitry. 

"Sorry." Dmitry says. They finish preparing everything on stage then he tells me to go tell the man who played the piano the title of the song I was going to sing then leaves. I walk to where the pianist sat. I blinked multiple times to clear out what seemed like deja vu. 

The ghostly looking man from yesterday-- the one whom Alliyah thought was hot-- sat on the chair infront of the piano. He was the pianist. Apparently, he recognized me as well. He blinked several times.

"Ahh... you again." he nonchallantly says. I smile nervously, pretending that I didn't just hear sarcasm. 

"Do you know how to play A come Amor?" I ask him. He nods. I nod as well. "Okay, that's what I'll be singing. Make sure to do it slowly so I can catch-up."

"And if I don't?" he coldly asked.

I flinched. "Excuse me?" 

He smirked then shook his head, his hair swaying gently as he did. "You better sing well." he prepared his fingers on the keys.

Terrance introduces me to the audience. "Once again, hello everyone. Let us all give a hand for..." he turns to me then whispers, "what's your name?"

"Persephia." I answer. Damn! My real name escaped my mouth. Shoot! I imagine banging my head on the piano.

"For Persephia!" he continues, "as she serenades us with beautiful songs along with the accompaniment of the piano. Done by Victor Vierzon himself!" Terrance finishes. Hold on, did he just say that Vierzon was the last name of the pianist? Was he a relative of Marx'?

Terrance steps back then allows me to take his place. I look at the crowd. My eyes dart to Dmitry who had a smug look on his face. I guess he realized I lied about my name.