Ghost Bird

13: Sang and Victor

The grocery store is deserted. The only other person is a cashier manning the lone open register. He gives me a sleepy smile when I enter, but doesn't say anything.

It takes me longer than I thought it would to find the specific brand of cashews North was in a commercial for. Why are there so many options? Salted cashews, unsalted cashews, bioluminescent cashews—too many to choose from! I grab four of the right cans, just to be safe, and go to the register. Less than a minute later, I'm ten dollars poorer, but the look on North's face will make it worth it.

The door slides open right as I'm about to leave, admitting a young woman. She's wearing a t-shirt with a white coat, a maroon tie, and a heart on it. The Ghost Bird logo is on the sleeve, but it's off, somehow. She probably wanted to avoid a copyright violation—the shirt looks homemade.

My heart starts pounding. Her shirt screams superfan. Maybe she hasn't seen me? My hope of remaining anonymous is dashed when she pulls out her phone and clicks a button, staring right at me as she does so. It's only a matter of time before other fans flock to our location.

"Hello! Are you going to work?" she asks. She puts her phone away, not trying to take a picture.

I relax a hair. Sure, her shirt is a bit alarming, but so far she hasn't been nearly as crazy as some of the other fans I've seen. "Yeah, so I actually need to get going," I say, trying to sound apologetic.

Her head bobs up and down. "That makes sense." She doesn't move from the doorway, blocking my path.

I edge around her. "Right, so I'll be going then."

Her eyes spark with anger before she calms down again. Trying to act casual, I slide my hand into my pocket and unlock my phone, ready to call for backup if need be. "Can you pass a message on to Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green for me, please?" she asks.

"Sure." I probably won't, but she won't know that, and I don't want to maker her mad.

"Tell them I'm Sarah Vanter, AKA PurpleSuit in the Sowen fanfic community. They should look up my writing—it'll change their lives. Not to brag, but I think it's better than the script itself." She pauses, deep in thought. It's a struggle to keep my face neutral. I know they've read at least a few snippets of Sowen fanfics, but neither Sean nor Owen enjoy them. They do their best to humor the authors, though.

"No, I know a better way," she mumbles. She reaches into her purse and pulls out her wallet. After counting out five twenties, she tries to shove the money into my palm. I take a step back, not wanting to touch it. "You can get me into the studio, right Sang? I'll give you a hundred dollars. All you have to do is say I'm your friend. Once I'm past security, I'll talk to Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green myself. They'll listen to me."

A drop of sweat slides down my face. She wants me to sneak her into the studio—just so she can pester Sean and Owen? Definitely not. "Listen, Sarah, I think it's great you're so involved with your writing. But, I really do need to leave. I'll pass on your message."

With that, I practically leap past her and start walking back toward the studio. Thankfully, she doesn't follow me. As I get closer, a mean thought occurs to me—if I really want to mess with North, a one time delivery of a few cans of nuts isn't going to cut it. My new plan will ensure that I get complete revenge on him for making Luke break into my house. Sure, I had some fun at my dinner party, but this will be better.

I pull out one of the cans of cashews to check the brand. 'Corporeal Cashews—for those who like their nuts fleshy' is printed on the label in bright blue font. I gasp, unable to believe I missed the odd name and slogan when I was watching the commercial. Who approved it? It makes cashews sound absolutely disgusting.