tRuTh - z.m.

31 - Zayn

May 20th

Before we left for America, I'd been working on a song about Olivia. I named it Rear View. I finished it on the plane as she slept on my shoulder. I wanted to sing it for her, but I was almost scared and definitely nervous.

Olivia and I had planned to have lunch after her class. I'd finally convinced her to go and just finish up the year. This was the last month anyways. There was no need to have done all that work just to let it go to waste.

I was parked outside of her class just waiting, scrolling through twitter on my phone, when someone knocked on my window. It was an older guy. He looked like paparazzi, so I almost didn't roll my window down, but he was smiling so big, I had to.

"Hey man, what's up?" I asked.

He ran his hands over his bald head and adjusted his shades. "I'm such a big fan." He started. "Of you and Olivia both. I saw her at the movie premiere and I just became obsessed. How long have you two been together?"

"Thank you, we're going on three months now," I nodded.

"That's amazing, man congrats. Do you mind if I get a picture?" He asked holding his phone up.

"Sure, I'm not doing anything else." I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car. As I was adjusting my hair and the man was getting his camera ready, a familiar voice stopped us.

"I'll take it," a heavy French accent sounded off. I looked up and Trish was standing there smiling.

She took the picture and the man went on his way. He seemed to get shy when Trish came along.

"What are you doing down here?" I asked as we stood outside of my car, enjoying the early summer breeze.

"Well I came to meet up with Olivia after her class, but it looks like she already has plans." She chuckled.

"We were only going to get lunch, then probably smoke a few blunts afterwards. I'd love if you joined us." I offered. I really did want to get to know Trish better. She's such a big part of Olivia's life. I feel like as her boyfriend it's my duty to get to know her best friend.

"Lunch sounds great, but no smoking for me. I always gotta be on alert. Can't be high and throw a dagger 100 ft away with good aim." She said innocently enough.

"A dagger?" I raised a brow at her.

"Yeah, it's in my job description." She shrugged. "I'm also a certified sharp shooter."

"Exactly what do you do?" I treaded the waters and just asked. I was sick of wondering and pondering.

"That's what I've been wanting to talk to you about. At first I wasn't sure if you were gonna stick around but I think it's definitely time to fill you in." She said, then gestured to my car. "You mind?"

"No, not at all, get in." We both entered on our respective sides. "So, what do you do?"

"I am a trained assassin." She spoke in a slight Russian accent.

"Wait, you're not French?"

She chuckled lightly. "Let me just tell you my story. My real name is Monique. You are to tell no one my real name." She looked me dead in eye.

"Okay, you can kill me if I do." I joked.

"I will." She said simply, and I swallowed, my throat had suddenly gotten a little dry. "Anyway, I was born in America and sold to a very rich family in Russia as a baby and they raised me. Starting at the age of nine they began my training. I was taught by top military people from all over the world. I'm 25 now and I'm fluent in fifteen languages. I can play six instruments. I have three degrees and I can kill a man 262 ways and not get caught. Oh, and I have about 296 billion dollars in total, from my job and my inheritance. I heard you were inquiring."