Welcome to Reality [UPDATES FRIDAY]

PART ONE

The Playground wasn't open yet. In the basement beneath the hall, preparations were beginning for the sponsors that would inevitably arrive there later that evening. Marshall Creed would remain at the party until then, he decided. Last month's newly recruited sponsors had been disappointing, to say the least. You could tell that their heart wasn't in it. Creed decided that if his workers wouldn't do their jobs properly, he'd do it himself.

The hall was hosting a charity ball that evening to raise money for breast cancer awareness. A tasteful pink light had been applied to the room, making the whole place seem gentle. The high ceilings didn't seem so intimidating when the lighting softened the rugged edges of the sharp interior. The lighting – or possibly the nature of the event – had subdued the party guests too, who sipped pink champagne and talked in hushed tones.

Creed examined the clientele with care. He needed to pick a very specific type of person. A woman, preferably. Filthy rich, in a way where a few thousand dollars wouldn't go amiss. Someone who loved gossip and drama, but pretended they didn't to keep up appearances. A person like that would be difficult to find at one of these events, where everyone had to act prim and proper for the same of charity. It was fortunate for Creed that he knew how to read people.

He spotted the woman in no time at all. She was perfect for the task at hand. Mid-thirties, he'd say. White, with dulled down blonde hair. She looked bored by the other women and their gentle talk of survival stories and inspirational recoveries. She was busy fiddling with the pearls on her necklace, clearly going for the Breakfast at Tiffany's look with a black cocktail dress.

Yes, she will do nicely. Creed could sense her nerves a mile off. As though she didn't belong here. As if she didn't belong anywhere. But he would find a place for her.

Creed caught her eye when she looked up and she offered him a slow smile, as though afraid her peers might notice her disinterest in them. But she kept his gaze, surprise registering on her face. She wasn't used to the attention.

Creed waited a while before he approached her. She kept throwing him furtive glances, so he could tell she wanted to talk. He scanned her hand on his approach. No ring. That was good. The last thing he needed was a husband in the mix. He didn't smile as he walked over. This was business.

'Good evening,' Creed said. The woman offered her hand to shake.

'It is now,' she murmured. 'Thanks for saving me.'

'What is your name?'

'I'm Thea.'

Thea waited for Creed to offer up his name, but he didn't. It was best his clients knew as little as possible. That was the way of RealiTV. Keep detail to a minimum. Especially to the sponsors, who would be handling sensitive information.

Creed let Thea attempt small talk for a while – something he didn't really have time for – and answered her questions stiffly for as long as he could bear. He watched her polish off three more glasses of pink champagne before he declined the waiter offering them out, brushing his hand against Thea's elbow.

'Do you like secrets?'

Thea's eyes were a little far away, but they glistened at the prospect of gossip.

'Of course.'

Creed offered Thea his arm and she took it, squeezing his elbow as though they were old friends. Creed couldn't understand why his men couldn't ensnare custom the way he could. To him, it seemed almost too easy.

If you want a job doing, do it yourself.

Outside the main hall was quiet, and the pair slipped by unnoticed. It was best that no one saw where they were going. Creed had already ensured that all of the security cameras were turned off for the night, supervising himself to watch the red light on each one blink out. He checked them once more as he supported Thea absentmindedly, her drunken giggles raucous in the quiet room.