#while I was in the shower/cramps acted up and was like hey article says green tea might help and we have that do you want

[salamidots]

after dropping off the face of the earth for almost two weeks: back to reblogging haha

[lucidkpopscenarios-blog]

Wanderlust (Jackson/Reader)

By: Admin Dreamer

Genre: Fluff, angst, action hero!Jackson

Warnings: None other than Jackson being extra AF

Jackson Wang was known almost everywhere for his rugged and charming looks and demeanor, gracing silver screens with his stellar acting, mind-blowing stunts, and charisma that outshone even the most talented of co-stars. You, as a reporter for a small-time women’s magazine, get the rare opportunity to interview Jackson for a highlight issue. What you get yourself into ends up becoming an adventure of a lifetime.

“Hey! You’re needed in the bosses’ office right now!” Your supervisor called out to you across the office, managing to break your concentration from the overdue article you had neglected to research because of other projects you were involved with in the department. “Okay, I’ll be right there!”

Finishing up the last sentence of the paragraph you had written, you got up from your cubicle to stretch out your unused muscles before you unceremoniously exited the cramped space. The commotion was loud enough to attract the attention of the lady in the next space over, who shot you a comforting smile and mouthed out, “Good luck!”

You knew it was supposed to be supportive, but you couldn’t help to become even more anxious. It was your boss you were meeting after all.

Okay, just fake it till you make it. Fake that nonexistent confidence!  

With a spring to your step only a newcomer possessed, you made your way through the maze of cubicles to the head writer’s office near the back of the office space. With every step the butterflies in your stomach grew increasingly energetic, your palms sweating out of sudden anxiousness.

Taking a deep breath, you turned the heavy knob and enter the warm office. It was nearly 60 degrees outside during the springtime and you wondered why it was so warm in her office, but you didn’t question it.

She seemed to be preoccupied with her work as you slink into her space, with a choked out “You wanted to see me?”, she looked up to grin at you brightly with a certain spark in her eye that either meant something good or bad.

“Ah, yes! I have a special assignment for you. Do you happen to know Jackson Wang?” Upon hearing the infamous name, your eyes seemed to widen in shock and utter fear.

“You mean, action hero extraordinaire Jackson Wang?” The eager nod from your boss only made your nervousness increase. While it was going to be an interesting experience, this article was either going to make or break your career as a writer for this magazine and you knew it well.

Why did she have to give me this project of all people?

“That’s the one! You’ll be flying out to New Zealand tomorrow to his movie set and interviewing him there! You’ll be there for a couple of days, so you might want to enjoy the weather and bask in all the great sun you can get before you head back.” She laughed slightly, her posture slightly erect from the news.

You didn’t blame her, who wouldn’t be excited to feature someone like Jackson Wang in their magazine?

She reached into her desk and pulled out a boarding pass, handing it to you. “Be sure not to be late now. You will be escorted through your trip for security reasons.”

Flustered and a bit embarrassed from your behavior with your boss, you squeaked out a, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you for doing this for me. Now go and finish that article you haven’t submitted to me yet!”

Goddamnit...

The next morning, you made sure to take extra care of your outfit and your overall general appearance. As you tossed all the clothes you needed for the week’s trip, you picked out the essentials that you needed to look somewhat awake. You vowed to make the best first impression that you could attempt.

The last thing you wanted to happen was to look like a hot mess in front of anyone that worked with Jackson Wang.

With your carry-on luggage and your laptop bag in tow, you anxiously waited in the lobby of your apartment building, which earned yourself a strange look from the security guard on duty. Too busy to calm your nerves, you simply didn’t give a damn about anyone else at the current moment. 

You waited in the stiff chair until you saw a black vehicle pull up. Two people in suits and earpieces exited the car and enter the building as soon as the car stopped. “Excuse me, are you [Y/F/N]?”

“Y-Yes...”

“Come, we will be escorting you to the airport.” One of them took your carry on while the other walked off behind you and helped you into the car as they sat tall and alert with you squished in the middle. You tried not to breath too much, the car already small with three people (two of whom were as tall as basketball players) and not wanting to expand.

The drive was only twenty minutes from your apartment but it felt like hours, and as much as you wanted to move around comfortably you couldn’t. You felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket with a message from your boss most likely, but you were more scared of these strangers who you were sandwiched between than your boss at this moment.

As the car pulled up to the terminal, you slowly stepped out, already slightly exhausted from the impromptu breathing exercises that you had to do. Grabbing your carry on, you followed the two guards through a streamlined check-in process. As you sat in the VIP lounge overlooking the terminal, you wondered how often you dreamed of this; relaxed and sipping overpriced coffee as you watched travel-weary people bustle through the terminal like ants through an anthill.

The rest of your trip had been a blur afterwards, a mix of fitful sleep along with lots of coffee making you look more groggy and unawake than you had been when you touched down in New Zealand.

As you walked through the terminal (at this point you were used to the to bodyguards beside you, whose names were Jinyoung and Jaebum, and all the strange stares you got as a result from the two somber men flanking your side), you spotted yet another black car with a older man who was holding a sign with your name.

“Ah, so you must be [Y/F/N]?” With a nod, his demeanor changed, a warm smile on his face. “Hello, I’m Smith. I’ve come to drive you to the hotel. I take it that you got to know Jaebum and Jinyoung while you were travelling? I apologize for the inconvenience. Mr. Jackson himself specifically requested the two of them to go and fetch you, I hope it was no trouble.”

“Oh no, thank you sir. The three of us... got along fine.”

“Oh good. Well come on, then. I have to drop you off to the hotel for a while before I take you to see Mr. Jackson.”

The ride was yet again filled with silence, but unlike looking out the window to a drab cityscape that was just beginning to wake up, you gazed at the flourishing green of the hills and trees you drove past, the air smelling faintly of the sea and summertime. A vague thought passed through your mind about forgetting sunscreen but you didn’t really care. Right now you were trying to enjoy as much of this trip as you could.

As the view of the quaint hotel popped into view, you checked your phone to see a mix of calls and urgent texts from your boss. You quickly replied to one of the more recent texts and shove the phone back in your bag before exiting the vehicle.

Your eyes wide in fascination and the luxury that was your hotel that you were to stay in for the duration of your stay, you nearly miss the cue that Smith gave you, rushing behind him as the three well-dressed men lead you into the lobby.

If the outside wasn’t lavish, the inside was more than enough to make up for it. You felt out of place, with your humble outfit of jeans and a nice blouse, compared to the other guests with their designer outfits and sparkling radiance. “[Y/F/N]? This way please, we will be escorting you to your room. We will be back around seven tonight to the set. Does that sound okay?” You nodded wordlessly as you take the keycard from his gloved hand. The three bow towards you before parting ways, their backs straight and gait orderly and crisp.

You knew that Jackson probably sent out his crew in order to welcome you, but you felt a little uneasy around them, maybe because they seemed to be so uptight and rigid in their system that you didn’t want to impose anything.

Normally you got along rather fine with others, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relax around them. You hoped that the time you’d have this week would be able to change that.

Unlocking the door to your room, you gasped in shock. It looked like the exact picture of what a lavish suite in a hotel like this would look like; king sized bed, luxurious tapestries, the latest tech in the kitchen and living room, gaudy centerpieces, floor to ceiling windows.

It was overwhelming to say the least.

You checked your watch and to your relief you had four hours to kill before you had to get ready. Flopping down on the bed, you decided a good shower and nap was in order.

As you emerged from the shower wrapped in the most comfortable silk robe, you flopped down on your bed and took out your phone, clicking on the messaging app before you saw the text your boss sent you.

From: The Boss, 3:45 PM

Good luck out there! I know you’ll do great, and make sure you get Jackson’s autograph for me! <3

You rolled your eyes, replying with a simple Thanks, will do before your eyes fell closed for the best nap you’ve had in a while.

The alarm on your phone woke you up nearly two hours later, the loud blaring noise startling you out of your pleasant dream and back into your reality. With a loud groan, you stretched and looked at the time, it was only 5:30 but you figured that you’d need time to actually put yourself together.

After nearly an hour of primping and fretting over your clothes, you finally made your way down to the lobby at around 6:45, only to see that the three men were already present, tall and proud. “Ah, [Y/F/N], you look nice. Right this way please.”

He guided you to the car, where you sat across from the two bodyguards, who weren’t dressed in suits anymore but rather in black polo shirts, khaki pants and black dress shoes, earpieces still lodged in their ears.

The ride was spacious, with enough wiggle room for your legs. You occupied yourself with your phone, or you stared outside where you were still mesmerized by the scenery. You understood why anyone would want to shoot here, the scenery seemed to be so otherworldly it was insane.

You arrived at the set precisely at 7:30 PM, where filming was still taking place. Again you were escorted into another room, where you were instructed to sit and wait for the superstar as he finished up his scene.

It would be an understatement that you were scared, no, mortified. You were going to have the opportunity of interviewing the great Jackson Wang. This could either make or break your career as a journalist, and by extension your magazine’s credibility. You were suddenly hit with anxiety, but you somehow managed to will it away quickly enough as soon as the door opened.

And you swore your heart stopped beating. Jackson Wang was in close proximity of you and you were about to interview him. You couldn’t falter now; you had to appear professional. 

“Ah, are you [Y/F/N] from Constellation Magazine? It’s really nice meeting you.” The man introduced himself, an extended hand towards you. Tentatively you gripped it and shook it firmly. “Yes, pleasure to meet you too.”

“Please, sit. I heard you had some questions for me?”

“Why, um.. yes.” You blushed, flustered. You knew he was charming, but you weren’t prepared for how straightforward he was. Somehow you managed to seat yourself in the chair behind you without ending in utter catastrophe, the presence of the man before you more than enough for you to handle already.

As you took out your notepad out of your bag, you barely noticed Jackson staring at you. As much as you were intrigued by him, he was also as much interested in you. Although you seemed nervous, you had your wits about you, which was something that he couldn’t say about many reporters who interviewed him.

You talked about many things, from his newest movie to his hobbies and interests to his newest pet he posted on Instagram the other day. He was very engaging, sometimes going as far as to ask you some questions in nearly playful banter.

Not once did you feel uncomfortable, even though he was a widely-acclaimed movie star.

Soon it was time to wrap up the interview. But before you could, there was one last question that you had in mind.

“You know, you always say that you loved acting, but what pushed you to pursue this career? As in, what drove you to think that you had to pursue this profession no matter what?” Jackson’s face fell somber, an inquisitive look on his face as he scratched at his beard.

“Hmmm.. you know, I never actually thought about it. I always knew that I wanted to act no matter what, you know? I’ve always loved entertaining people and making their days better. It didn’t really matter to me if I had become a theater actor or an onscreen one, I just wanted to act. I guess I can count myself lucky, I know so many people who are so talented in the field and they just don’t get the same opportunities that I do.” As he spoke, you quickly scribbled down on your notepad, nodding as he talked.

“And can I also say something else, just between you and I?” You looked up to see Jackson gazing at you, eyes intense and heavy it unnerved you. You turned off your recorder and closed your notebook with a hesitant, “Sure.”

“I just think that acting helps with my loneliness.”

It was an understatement that you were surprised. Everyone knew that he was the type of person to get along with everyone, there was never a single person that he had worked with that said anything bad about him. This was something that you weren’t expected and you were shocked.

“I apologize, that got kind of heavy for a second.” He retracted with a nervous laugh, but you shook yourself out of your stupor and replied quickly, “No! You’re fine. I guess I wasn’t expecting that.”

“How come?” You knew he was asking because he knew what you were going to say, deep down. “I think you have amazing people skills. People love you because you’re so kind and friendly with everyone that you meet. You meet so many people, yet everyone says that you make them feel like they’re a close friend of yours. It’s exhausting, but I commend you for that. Not everyone can brag about having that trait Jackson. If anything , I envy you.”

When you saw him ponder over your words for a minute, you began to get up from your seat before you felt his hand grab your wrist gently. “Hold on for one second.”

You looked back to see him glancing up at you with hopeful eyes, and who could say no to those eyes? Certainly not you. So you replied, “Sure. What’s on your mind Jackson?”

He seemed to wonder if what he was about to ask was a good idea, teeth worrying his bottom lip before saying, “You want to go out to get some coffee?”

“Sure, I’d love that.”

The two of you managed to sneak off the set to his private car. He helped you in first before he got into the driver’s seat. “Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Nah. Smith and the other two won’t mind. Besides, shooting is over and we won’t be too long.” He smiled at you before turning on the car. You had been nervous about what to talk about with him, but his exuberant personality managed to shine through and he regaled you with stories of his childhood. A small part nagged you to write all this down and present it to your boss, but you weren’t about to do that. You wanted to lock this small part of your trip in your heart, away from prying eyes and minds.

It’s not that you were naive, you knew that he most likely did this with others before you. However, you couldn’t help that there was something different about the way he carried himself around you. He seemed to be more relaxed, more himself. And if you hadn’t been in love with Jackson, you were now.

That was what scared you.

Surely he was aware of the power he had over people, the charms and quirks to his personality that made people fall to his feet in masses. You had no idea how far into your thoughts you were before he tapped your arm lightly and asked, “Are you alright? You look a little spaced out.”

“O-Oh... I’m alright.” You smiled, and he seemed to have bought it before he graced you with a smile of his own, getting out of his parked car to help you out of the passenger side. You looked around, looking at how vacant it was, and asked, “Are you sure it’s open?”

“Yep, they just don’t have as many customers here during this hour. Which is good because paparazzi can be a bitch.” You laughed in agreement. As ironic as it was for you, you understood how annoying it must be for him.

The two of you ordered coffee, but that seemed to be forgotten as the two of you were engrossed in conversation for hours, sometimes Jackson would crack hilariously childish jokes that you could help but laugh at. Or the staff would join in at his insistence, laughing along with you. Your phone buzzed with a text from Smith.

From: Smith, 11:49 PM

Where are you and Mr. Wang? I need to drop you off at the hotel and bring Jackson home.

“Hey, I think we need to go back now. Smith is asking where we are.” You sighed, before you felt a hand on yours. Startled, you looked up to see Jackson smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell him you’re with me and I’ll drop you off.”

“Oh, you don’t have--”

“I know, I just... I don’t know. You seem so different. I really want to get to know you better. Will you be on set tomorrow?”

“Well, technically my job is done here but I do want to explore the country for a little. I have six more days here.” He nodded in understanding before he pointed to your phone, “Can I give you my number?”

“Sure.” You handed him your phone and watched as he typed the numbers in and handed it back to you, a small smile on his face. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

From: Smith, 12:04 AM

I got a text from Jackson, he says you’re with him and that he’s dropping you off. Please be careful. Tell him to drop you off a block away from the hotel for privacy.

Before you could say anything, Jackson peeked at your phone and sighed, “Ah, good old Smith always remembering the protocol when I don’t.”

“How did you get to know him?”

“Smith? He was a butler for a while, which is why he’s so uptight about a lot of things, but he quit his butler job to work for me and Jaebum and Jinyoung. We’re all good friends.” You nodded, satisfied enough with the answer. He dropped you off a block away from the hotel like he was instructed, parked in a dimly lit parking lot of a restaurant before turning to you with a, “I am really glad I got to spend time with you today. If you want, we can hang out whenever I’m free.”

“That sounds lovely. Have a great night, Jackson.” You smiled softly before you exited the car. “Text me!”

“Okay!”

Over the next six days, it felt like a dream. During the days, you ran errands that your boss asked you as well as explored the area around the hotel, discovering a market where you bought several things for yourself and small things for your friends and family (and your boss, of course). At night, Jackson always took you out for a drive to explore the night life of New Zealand. The two of you always ended up in some hole in the wall establishment which you loved. He seemed keen on your tastes, agreeing to join you when you asked to see the stars on the last night of your trip.

You didn’t remember how far or how long you drove out into the countryside. All you knew was that you felt safe, like nothing would ever be able to hurt you nor him. Uncharacteristic of him, he seemed to relish in the quiet and drove as he put on some soft music.

As he pulled over into a field, he turned off the engine and smiled as he watched you eagerly get out of the car and rush into the field. He liked seeing you so carefree, it made him feel lighter and happier the more he saw you. He couldn’t believe how quickly he was falling in love with you, but he knew this couldn’t last. But he didn’t want to think about it now; he wanted to remember as much as he can from this. Who knows if the both of you would see each other again?

Getting out of his car, he called out to you, “Why did you want to come out here?”

“Look up! Aren’t the stars so pretty?”

He looked up and he couldn’t help but agree. The stars were so clear, so bright. They shone with a pristine glow that you couldn’t get from the city, and Jackson was suddenly glad that he hadn’t worn anything designer. He learned very quickly that you were quite adventurous despite your reserved disposition, so casual clothes were always a necessity for you.

He walked over to where you stood, gazing up at the stars with you for a while. The way the wind blew through your baggy clothes and through your wild hair made you look like some sort of fairy, especially in the dimly lit night. “Can you believe that some of these stars that we are seeing now might not exist anymore?”

“Why’s that?”

“Stars are so far away from us, and light takes time to travel. Some of these stars may be burned out millions of years ago, but we never know because they’re so far away.” You mused, your voice dreamy and airy in your thoughts. Jackson never thought of it like that, but now that you mentioned it, he pondered over the idea.

“Maybe that’s why people call celebrities stars sometimes. Because we are seen as so far away, only meant for people to look at and admire from a distance. Honestly I miss the days where I would talk to people and they wouldn’t recognize me. There’s something... I don’t know, human in it. No expectations were there, or at least not as restrictive as the ones that I have now. People are sympathetic outside, but not in this business. You’re expected to be cheerful and carefree at all time, even when someone is being rude. Being around people all the time, constantly being nice and respectful... there’s something degrading about it. Like I am not allowed to have negative emotions. It’s really draining sometimes, I wish it was easier to an extent.”

“But you enjoy it still, after all this stuff you go through on a daily basis. Even after all the things that you’ve told me, you never wish you didn’t pursue acting.” You observed, your form leaning slightly closer. He could feel the goosebumps dotted along your flesh. Without hesitation he took off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders.

Blushing at the gesture, all you said was a soft, “Thank you.” before the two of you fell silent, gazing at the beautiful night scenery. He knew you were right. Regardless of what negativity he had in his heart, he didn’t want to be anywhere else, this was his home.

After a while of watching the stars, it had become too cold to stand outside and you both resorted to sit in the car, sunroof open to show the starry sky.

“Have you always liked watching stars?” Jackson inquired, momentarily catching your eyes before you looked back up to the stars.

“Yeah. It calmed me down when I have a bad day. Sometimes I would just drive and drive and drive to get away from the city and just look at the stars on a mountain.” You replied, giggling softly at the thought. You heard him call your name, and looking over at him, the gaze on you nearly knocked the wind out of your lungs. It was the same intense gaze, but there was something different about the way he looked at you from the last time.

He tentatively reached out, softly brushing a knuckle against your cheek before gently cradling it against his palm. “Is this okay?”

“Yes...” You whispered, unable to utter anything. This was more than okay, your stomach and heart were fluttering so much it was almost painful. It wasn’t because Jackson Wang, the action hero king, was about to kiss you. It was because Jackson Wang, the kind and gentle soul, was about kiss you.

It was a profound difference, and you weren’t sure this was a part of his charm or not. You felt fireworks burst in your heart when you felt his lips touch yours, smooth and somehow felt like home. You could smell his earthy scent, but there was also a note of something more delicate as well. And it suited him. The kiss didn’t last very long, but it was magical, something that you’ve read about and expected only in fairy tales. What Jackson said next made your heart flop.

“I... I really like you. And I’m not saying this as an actor taking advantage of you. I haven’t talked to someone like this in such a long time. You’re the first person that I was able to open up so quickly with. When I saw you that day on set, I knew there was something different about you. Even though you looked uncomfortable you did your best always. I admire that about you, so much.”

“Are you... sure?”

“I’m positive about it.” You looked down sadly, your heart racing when he cupped your face in his hands, forcing your face up to look at his eyes. “What’s wrong? Why are you sad?”

He knew what you were about to say, he could see it in your eyes, that you understood that this couldn’t happen just as much as he did. “I just... I’m going to miss you.” You mumbled finally, looking down with a sad sigh. Suddenly, you fiddled around with a bracelet on your wrist, taking it off and grabbing one of his hands to put it on.

“Here, its a bracelet that I bought for myself to absorb negative energy, but I want you to have it. I’ve had it for a long time, but I trust you with it. When it snaps, just keep it with you. I’m not sure when it will snap though, so. I’ve had it for a while now and it still hasn’t snapped, even with all the shit I’ve been through. Maybe you’ll be that person.” You smiled, thumbing over the rough leather and deciding that it suited him much better than it did you. You felt him kiss your forehead, lips lingering at the spot before you felt him smile against your temple. “Thank you. I’ll miss you.”

The two of you drove back to your hotel where he dropped you off with a kiss, and that was the last time you ever saw him in person.

As soon as you landed back home, your boss shot you a welcome back text before asking to meet her at your office. Clutching the file in your hands with the completed article, you shuffled it to your editor, who seemed to brighten up as she continued reading the piece. By the time she was finished, she was nearly bouncing in her seat. “Oh my god, [Y/N], this is amazing! This is... wow, it turned a lot better than I expected, keep up the amazing work!” You smiled, relieved that your boss loved what you did.

Later that night, you scrolled through your contacts to see Jackson’s number still in your phone. Your thumb hovered over the contact, conflicted on calling him. Maybe he’s too busy, he might’ve seen me as nothing more than an onset fling anyways... you thought sadly, as you scrolled past his number. The TV, which was just on for background noise, played a recent interview from Jackson before a certain question pricked your interest.

“I see you have a new accessory here! It looks somewhat old, did you get it from somewhere?”

You saw him smile at your bracelet fondly before replying, “It’s from someone very special to me.”

“Ohhh, a lucky lady perhaps?”

“Oh, I’d rather not say.” He replied with a wink. You smiled a little, glad that he still remembered you. 

You only hoped that the two of you would meet again face to face, when you both have made peace with yourselves and were content with your respective lives. Until then, you were content with watching him from afar.

Just like you always have.

[gallivantingheart]

House of Murderers

Something I did last year for uni. The prompt/s being:  A stranger knocks on the door; there is a gun on the table; a dead body.

(Oh, uhm all characters written are my own. Yeah.)

Word count: Approx. 2010

The doorbell rings. Not his problem.

The doorbell rings. He curses. His hand jolts and popcorn scatters over his lap and the scratchy sofa.

Callum can’t make out the figure disrupting his night in. The light is off outside and the rain has dulled to a shower. He wrenches the heavy door open, feeling the door spring back off his arm. The car explosion from the movie illuminates her face. Oval in shape, set with dark eyes – black or brown, he isn’t sure. She stands his height, the edges of her mouth thin. She seems to have walked at least some of the way here, her coat wet but not soaked. Her shoes are black, the suede wet and damaged.

 He scowls, idly swiping popcorn crumbs off his pants. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Callum, yes? Callum Yates?” Her voice is low, but not quiet or rough.

She tucks a damp clump of short hair behind an ear, simple studs bouncing off the lone source of light. It’s shorter at the back than the front, matching the angle of her chin in large waves. Bright turquoise paints the ends, the only colour other than the grey of her scarf he had seen.

“Yeah? What do you want?”

She sucks in a breath and stares him dead in the eye. “I know who killed your sister.”

 He steps back, stunned. It had been four months. Four months since Ellie had been found mangled on the rocks, washed up from the south. The police thought she’d been shot and tossed – yes, they affirmed crudely, tossed, as if she were some toy – over the pier. Two and a half since his father Stephen, older brother Matthew and himself had been told there had been no new leads, but promised they would keep looking. Nothing. No one knew if it had been an accident or random or on purpose. Nothing.

 He crosses his arms, squinting his bottle green eyes at the girl no older than himself – or maybe Elinore. She barely moves, shifting like willow on a calm day.

“What makes you think you know who it was? The police have no clue and I don’t think they’d like some girl nosing about in their business. I certainly don’t.” He snarls.

She straightens up, clearly insulted. She takes a smooth but wet step past the threshold, invading his space in a dangerous fashion. “Some girl is better than no one. Don’t you want to know who did it?”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m never wrong.” Her voice is a feather, brushing through his thoughts. She pulls a handgun from her pocket and places it on the hall table, her long fingers over it. “I know who it is. And you seem like the one in the family who wants blood – I caught bits of your police statement. I can give it to you. If you leave with me right now.”

 Callum looks back to his house, empty for the night. His adoptive father is the owner of a small phone company and dabbles in inventions on the side. Stephen had been invited to some high society function but was unable to convince his youngest son to come. Matthew was over in Dubai for his job in IT – training in…something. He’s in a t-shirt he suspects should have been in the wash a few days ago and track pants that smell like warm butter and salt. And Ellie wasn’t here. Never again.

“Give me two minutes.”

 He sprints up the stairs. If Ellie was here she would have smiled, minty green eyes crinkling. Said the girl looked pretty. That maybe she was his type. He grabs jeans, but keeps the t-shirt – she didn’t know how long he’d been wearing it. Yanking sneakers on, he thunders down and finds a hoodie from the jumble of coats hanging up by the garage. He spots an emerald green one – Elinore’s favourite. After fumbling in the dark for the house keys, he slams the door behind him. The girl has buried a smile in her knitted scarf, tugging it up to her nose. But she still holds the gun.

 “What’s that for?” He points, flicking up his hood as they walk down the drive. He can see the shine of a car at the gate.

“For the culprit. A little of his own medicine.”

Her walk is brisk and light – if he could put it down to anything, Callum would call her a business fairy. He slides in the passenger side. It’s a sports car, black and sleek. It fits her well. Jumping in next to him, she drops her hood and knocks it into gear. They tear down the weaving road, lined with the housing of the elite. He grips the seat – Matthew always drove like a grandma.

“Who is it anyway? Who killed Ellie?” He’s dying to know the monster that did it. The thing that murdered his dear sister.

“Jared Farrow.”

 He nods in recognition. Jared Farrow was That Kid. The one who was good at everything, but someone you couldn’t seem to hate. Flawless. He remembers him from school – mousey brown hair, happy eyes and too much limbs for his own good. When he sat, his arms seemed lanky and endless and made him look like a cramped insect.

“He wants your money,” She continues, mouth pink and glittering with the streetlights, “you don’t have much, but it’s seems enough for him. Ellie- Elinore had been seeing him for a while, but was keeping it quiet. He had the opportunity – they talked online under fake names and organised a date – and the murder weapon. I found the same gun used to kill her in his office draw.” She presses her foot down on the gas and he jolts.

“How do you know?” He can’t seem to stop asking questions, because she doesn’t give answers.

“Because I live with him. I know this guy to a T. And…” Her voice dwindles. “I thought he loved me. I used his computer the other week and found everything – he hadn’t logged off. Did some digging. Put two and two together.”

 She’s young; beautiful. No one would have believed her if she decided to tell them. No one could hate Jared. But she does. From the way her eyes bare down on the slick road to the tight clench of her hands on the steering wheel. She seems thirsty for the kill. Broken hearts might do that to you, he assumes. Wasn’t like he knew though.

She seems to have gauged him well, choosing the right Yates to recruit for her mission. Matthew was avoiding it, going overseas and hoping to forget. His father had mourned the death of his only daughter hard and long. But Callum? Callum wanted to get rid of the sick guy who did this to her. To his family.

 They are driving down the boulevard that lines the sea. Even through the car’s structure Callum can hear the ebb and flow of the waves, the sound they make as they breach then crash into themselves. But the moon doesn’t light them tonight. Instead it waits behind a stretch of cloud, waiting for their work to be done. He leans against his seatbelt and runs a hand through his wet sand hair. His knees jiggle. He wants to be so sure this man they’re about to kill is the right one. He just has to trust her.

It is far too easy to though – irrational on his part. But this is the best lead he’s heard since Ellie was murdered. He glances to the inside of his wrist, the tattoo peeking out of the sleeve. He rolls it back. A pair of round swirly cartoon wings, line in black and accented with orange. He and Ellie had gotten matching ones together when he graduated. The only other truly impulsive thing he had done. Funny how stuff like that seemed to involve her. The girl flicks her sight to the image, but says nothing.

 Callum doesn’t even know her name. He asks.

She tries to smother a smile. “Why do you want to know? So you can rat me out afterwards?”

“No! No. I just…it’s weird, okay? What do I call you?”

He realises his question sounds blunt, but she doesn’t comment. She ponders it for a moment, stopping at a set of traffic lights. “V. Call me V.”

Before he can say anything else, she pulls up outside a tight apartment made of old red brick. The rain has stopped. Lights are on, warm and inviting. A home. The door is old and white, stark against the brickwork, even in the dark.

“Come on. Down to business.”

V makes it so simple. Acts so business-like and detached. He shifts on the doorstep as she unlocks the door. She’s turning the handle when his hand drops on hers, gripping tightly. She looks over her shoulder and frowns.

 “Are you sure it’s him? Like, 100%?” He hisses.

She scowls. “Of course I’m sure! I’m never wrong. About anything – well, nothing like this!”

“A-and killing him? Is this really necessary?” He tries to swallow a girly squeak threatening to catch his voice.

She relaxes her grip on the doorhandle, keys jingling softly. “You’re the one who wanted him dead – I read the article. And watched the interviews. I’ve watched you. Do you think that if we tell the cops that they’ll believe us? What will happen if they do? He won’t get the full sentence!” She looks away, a sad sneer resting on her mouth. “He’s too good a person.”

 V sweeps in the door, leaving it open for him to follow. She kicks her boots off, letting them bang the wall. “Hey! I’m back.”

It’s as if someone has flicked a switch – truly a Janus. She shrugs off her coat and Callum sees she wasn’t really dressed for killing, or the weather. From the fake leather miniskirt to the strappy burgundy crop top. He’s surprised she isn’t shivering. He shifts again on the spot, uneasiness creeping into his shoulders.

Her dark sight locks onto him and she leans back. “Don’t touch anything. We don’t want you implicated. I live here. It fits.”

“Whoa, you’re back early.” A low voice carried down the cream hallway, the lighting making the walls faintly yellow. “How was clubbing?”

 She says something vague, rolling her shoulders and sliding the weapon into her hands. They walk quietly down the hall, Callum’s shoes making wet prints in the Arabian rug. The further in he walks, the worse he feels. He eyes the ceramic pot in the corner, considering his stomach and the turning feeling that refuses to go away, no matter how much he convinces himself that this is right. V’s socks are pink and green. Jared has his back to them, facing a computer. His hair is ruffled, the tan he once had faded – the summer was long gone.

 Then, suddenly he can’t do it. He can’t face the man who threw his sister off the side of the pier. The rolling in his torso is too much and he backs away.

“I-I can’t do this. I won’t. V, put the gun down.” He murmurs. “This isn’t right.”

Her shoulders tighten and she whirls on him. Her eyes are alight but dead. It’s as if she’s already done it. No longer is she the pretty girl Ellie would have pushed him into at a club. Now she’s…a murderer.

“But it’s not wrong either!” She hisses. He shakes his head and she huffs. “Fine. If you won’t, I will. Someone needs to pay – and it’s going to be him.”

She strides the rest of the way down the warm hallway. He runs to the door. Covering his hands with his sleeves, he turns the handle and tumbles outside. Callum falls against the door and he hears the mute bang – she would have masked the noise with something like a pillow, he’s sure. Then he runs. Runs as far as he can from the house of murderers.