Undercover Cops

Chapter 4

The luggage was lined up in front of the airport as we stared at each other in deep silence. This was the start of our mission, and we were all flying to different destinations, or almost. Some travelers walked by us with confused expressions, seeing us just standing there waiting.

"My flight is in ten minutes," Miley announced while checking her watch eagerly. "I have to go right now or I'll be late."

"Ours too," I added quickly, throwing a glance at my partner -the devil in person-.

"See you guys later, then. Through the laptop, I mean!" Selena giggled, looking cheerful and excited at the same time.

We waved at each other before we all parted in different directions; Joe followed me with a slight pout and two heavy suitcases. 

When the time came, a flight attendant examined us carefully while frantically looking down the passport and at our faces again. Clueless, she asked in an innocent voice: "Are you a married couple on honeymoon or as the passport says, two undercover cops?"

I almost choked when I heard what she said, especially the honeymoon part, but masked my disgust with a professional expression. "No ma'am, we are special agents on a mission, as the passport says. Thank you."

She nodded, smiling big as if she won a best friend. "You may enter, lovely couple! Have a safe trip and good luck with your mission!"

I cursed myself in my head, knowing that I forgot to point out how we definitely aren't in a romantic relationship. I don't think Joe and I have a relationship at all, if not hate.

"She made me cringe inside!" Joe whispered in my ear. "How could people even think such an unthinkable thought? Are they blind or dead? It's pretty clear we hate each other."

"Give the poor girl a break. She looks so innocent; I bet she's new."

He didn't respond, so we just followed the hallway and entered the small airplane. It wasn't a long flight, but since I despise planes, I wanted it to be over as soon as possible. I turned my head to my right, eyeing Joe fast asleep against the window while trampling a cushion. From the outside, he almost seemed like a decent guy with his irresistible looks and all, but his personality ruins everything. I decided to read a random magazine, but regardless my high energy, I fell asleep too.

___

Who knew that Chicago could be so cold? Miley shivered, hugging her leather jacket and tapping her combat boots. She didn't look like a cop at all, but more like the opposite; a runaway who just got accepted into the town's most dangerous gang.

She scratched her head impatiently, wondering where did the taxis all go. Shaking her head, she decided to walk to the nearest hotel called Chicago Dream. That was the lamest name a human being could ever invent! she grumpily thought. But again, some people are just naturally dumb and bossy.

She instantly thought of Nick and rolled her eyes to herself for the hundredth time. She has a complicated relationship with the leader of their team; somewhere between best friends and worst enemies. She knew she cared about him -maybe more than she should- but all the same time, he always annoys her in some way. They have been best friends with benefits for a few weeks a while ago, and she wasn't proud of it at all.

She considered it as her second secret since she never told Demi or Selena about it. Of course, she knew that they have their suspicions, but they always restrained themselves to ask direct questions. Yes, even the curious Selena.

"Chicago Dream," She read out loud in a sarcastic voice as soon as she arrived in front of the hotel. "Joy!"

She entered it with a loud sigh and contained herself from puking when she noticed the exaggerated and obviously fake smile of the receptionist. She evaluated the option of running away, but she reminded herself of her duty and walked towards the talking doll.

"Happy wonderful afternoon, charming ma'am! May I help you?" squealed the red-haired receptionist, glancing down at Miley's clothes before frowning vividly.

"Very wonderful, indeed," Miley repeated suspiciously. "Is there a problem?" She bitterly asked after a short silence.

"Of course not!" the woman exclaimed with an astonished expression. "I simply never saw tourists with such a singular taste of clothing. Are you a gangster?"

Miley scoffed, evidently offended by this prejudice coming from a Barbie who looked like she cried for seventeen years before applying some exaggerated mascara. She flipped her curly hair as a reflex and proudly declared: "I'm the new photographer in town. Do you know the company Chicago Super Model that's across the street? I'll be working there from now on."

Flabbergasted and somehow intimidated, the woman bowed as a sign of respect and instantly handed a key to Miley. "Miss Cyrus, please enjoy your stay!" She babbled nervously. 

Miley sighed, as usual, and immediately exited the hall. She abhors fake people like the red-haired girl she just met. It reminded her too much of her terrible mother, a wasted alcoholic who used to slave her before she ran away, so two years ago. She never heard of her since then and it honestly still hurt her a lot. Her dad, on the other hand, never existed in her life. He left the family before her third birthday, denying her as his child.

"Morbid life," Miley grumbled while she slammed the expensive suite's door. "It's not even worth it! Nobody even cares, since no one noticed anything..."

Her mask fell instantly as she dropped to her knees, nearly sobbing. She fearfully looked at her suitcase and did something she swore of never doing again.

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Ouuuh, what is happening in Miley's life? Haha, I feel like a drama queen.
By the way, I don't know about the accuracy of my story, so forgive me if I write any untrue facts. Anyway...

Nancy xox