(Book 3 of Series / Continuation of The Perfect Assassin / Can be read as a stand-alone) *mature content* It all started as a game. Elizabeth Rausch was an idol admired by all. She was one of Europe's most famous performers, both in music and dancin...
Liz paced around her house frantically. She had drawers withdrawn from dressers, clothes littering her closet floor, and papers scattered everywhere throughout her house. She was practically tearing her house apart, it had to be somewhere. There was no way she could have lost it, it just couldn't happen. Her performance was tonight and she didn't have time for this, why couldn't she find it?
Her song. It was gone. And she had no idea where in the hell she'd put it.
Liz must have been searching for at least two hours before she finally huffed with frustration and gave up. Her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest as she snatched her car keys from the piano top and began making her way toward the garage. She would just sing the song she wrote for her mother. Besides, it's not like anyone would know the difference.
As soon as she stepped foot inside the theater building she was being rushed to her dressing room. Her team of professional designers and makeup artists were the best in London and Liz knew that she could count on them to make her look more than presentable for her showcase. Her mind began drifting to other thoughts while they worked to paint her face with makeup and made final touches on her dress. In a way, she was disappointed that she wouldn't be singing her new song. She'd worked on it for so long, put so much work into the lyrics and the melody, only for her to never introduce it to the world. Liz thought through her actions and tried piecing together the possible places she could have left her music, but as she continued to pry her memory for answers, she still couldn't seem to think of anywhere she would have forgotten them.
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She was standing in the left-wing of the stage before she knew it, her chest filling with butterflies before easing into a comfortable and calm sensation. This happened before every performance, it was practically tradition. Just like always, Liz ran her hands over her dress, a beautiful red gown with long sleeves made of lace and a neckline that hung on her shoulders. She pursed her matching red lips as she listened to the low hums of chatter coming from the audience. Liz couldn't see them as the heavy red curtain was draped across the stage floor, dividing the performer and outside world. When she felt that she was ready, she turned to one of the producers.
"Is everything set?"
"Yes, Miss Rausch. All that's left to do is dim the audience lights."
"And what of the pianist?" The producer blinked at her once before glancing behind her. Liz looked in the direction the producer was transfixed on, her brows furrowed with wonder. Her heart sank when she found what he was looking at. Butterflies immediately erupted back into her body, enveloping the entirety of her skin and overwhelming her senses. All of a sudden she felt numb, like her body wouldn't move if she tried. Her grey eyes glittered with confusion as she looked into the green eyes of someone she thought she'd lost. They held hope, longing, and love. Love, the brunette thought to herself. Loki, dressed in a formal black suit and tie, stood in the right-wing of the stage, both hands in his pockets as he gazed at Liz from a distance. His lips were parted with unspoken words and his brows were creased with what looked to be some sort of sad happiness.
