Retrospections of a Poetic Cutthroat (H. S. AU)

1. Poseur

My fingers were just itching to post the first chapter. Maybe it'll make things clearer. Enjoy!

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Poseur (fr.) :

a person who habitually pretends to be something he/she is not . 

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Three months later

"We need your help."

Harper Chamberlain can't be bothered to fight the smirk threatening to bloom onto her face despite knowing that the person on the other end of the line won't be able to see it. Oh, how she loves that tone. That tone of defeat, of restlessness, of near panic is music to her years. She's always liked a bit of drama. "Well it certainly is a surprise to hear from you, Paddy! Thought you guys had forgotten about little old me."

The sigh coming from the other end only makes her grin even wider. "I already told you not to call me that, Miss Chamberlain-"

"And I recall telling you to stop calling me 'Miss Chamberlain'. It makes me feel like a stuck up little celebrity who's too important to even tie her own shoelaces." She reprimands. "Harper's just fine, Paddy. No need to be stiff about it! We're almost buddies by now so lighten up!"

"A car will pick you up at your house in an hour."

The line goes dead and just like that Harper's day takes an unexpected turn, for better or for worse she's about to find out soon.

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The building is as unwelcoming and grim as she remembers it.

Change is invigorating, thrilling. That is mostly why she could never sit in one place for too long and that is why seeing the imposing headquarters of the Services when she exits the car makes her scrunch up her nose. Unchanged, still old, still full of headstrong stick-in-the-mud agents who are too easily annoyed, too preoccupied with 'protecting the country' to realize they're just covering their own personal frustrations. For the greater good, they said. Yeah right.

Studying people has always been something she was good at and making said people bend to her every whim was something she's been nothing short of the best at. She wasn't called a Fox for nothing. She was cunning, beautiful, she had her way with words and she was a pretty good actress who could improvise in virtually any situation, no matter how difficult it presented itself to be.

What made every head turn to the entrance when she made her way across the hall however had nothing to do with the qualities listed above. Sure Harper knew she had the looks, with the blue eyes, the wavy dark hair cascading over her shoulders, the full lips and the confidence to boost. But alas, those people she'd learned to call her 'associates' were not looking at her ready to pounce and ravish her. Instead they shot her frowns, weary glances and downright disapproving stares because to them, Harper Chamberlain was nothing more than a criminal.

Not in the sense you'd expect but still a felon, a thief, a manipulator and a damn good one if she managed to evade the Services for as long as she had.

Maybe being a bit too prideful was her biggest flaw yet. It was both a good and a bad habit, still arguably the best thing she got from her sorry excuse of a mother. The woman never stuck around more than a few nights at a time when they still lived together in the dingy South London flat full of cockroaches and too much dust. This left little 11-year-old Harper to fend for herself with no parental guidance whatsoever. Tough times were those but they shaped her into what she was today and put her on the right path. Well, as right as conning and lying through your teeth could be.