It is Tuesday when I meet everyone on my team and I am more than thrilled to discover Sara and I will be working together. There is a simple breakdown of working shifts and a quick introduction to our superiors. Everything still feels like a figment of my imagination and there are moments when I have to pinch myself to remember this is real. I am officially employed. Not under my name. Not under my race. Not under my gender. But still, the job is mine and when the month ends I will be paid a salary. Like… a normal working person. 

It is Wednesday, and the girls and I are piling into the minivan. Today we meet our first client. The man whose security detail our team has been assigned to. I’m nervous and excited and maybe a bit scared, because it no longer feels like a dream. This is happening. I have a job and I’m on someone’s security detail. Someone in need of protection. Because it is a job. A job that I have. And it is real. 

“Checking comms,” Sara, our team leader, says back to us from the front seat and we all do.

“Any idea who it is?” Willow asks.

“Yes, but I don’t want to ruin the fun for you guys. The client only wants to meet his new security detail and then we can thoroughly examine his residence and work through his schedule.”

Willow gasps, “Someone famous!” 

Everyone snickers and the van is filled with theories as the girls try to guess who it is. Sara winks at me and I giggle, taking a long look at all five of us present. I don’t join in their speculations because it really whose security detail we have been put on, we’ve all signed NDAs, prohibiting us from talking about it outside work. I just want to show up today, tomorrow, as long as I can, and not get fired. My first paycheck is more than I could have earned between my two part-time jobs, it will make all the difference for Pa and Minnie. This is all that matters.

The drive from Centurion to Brimson Apartments only lasts about ten minutes. Doesn’t surprise me that the high-value individual whose security detail we have been assigned to also lives in Greenwood. Centurion caters to the very elite and Greenwood is where they all flock. 

Brimson has to be one of the tallest apartment complexes I’ve ever seen in Bisari and it is heavily guarded. A thorough security check is done to the vehicle before we are allowed through the first gates into the residence grounds, and then to my utmost surprise, the car is subjected to a tire cleanse before passing through the second gate. The driver explains it is to avoid staining the white marble ground. If that doesn’t scream luxury, I don’t know what would. 

Everything is so pristine, white, and neat. The flowers are beautifully trimmed, the cars neatly parked. Stepping out of the minivan onto the white marble ground feels as though I’m committing some sort of crime and ruining the exquisite appearance of the entire compound with Ma’s old shoes. 

Sara leads the way and we all follow her into the building and then into an elevator. The girls keep their chatting going quietly and I keep my eyes pinned on the numbers counting up to the penthouse. I was not nervous when I got in the minivan, but now my finger won’t stop twitching, and cold sweat is soaking my feet. 

You better not fucking ruin your first day at work, Luke. 

The elevator door opens and we walk out into a small hallway. Sara leads the way to a large brown oak door and rings the doorbell. It swings open almost immediately, and a middle-aged poised lady in a red dress, raven black straight hair with black pupils of the same color to match appears. Though I am certain I have never met this vampire, there is something oddly familiar about the curves of her face, the light in her eyes. 

“Naiguso, Ms. Blackthorn,” Sara greets, making a small bow. 

“Naiguso, Sara, please come in.” The freakishly tall woman ushers us in.

Taking my first steps into the ultra-sleek apartment, I try not to stare too hard at her, keeping my inquisitive gaze as private as possible. She’s so familiar, perhaps some kind of TV personality? One of those cooking channels Pa won’t stop watching? 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Ms Blackthorn says with a pressed smile and we all bow. 

Once her back is to us, moving in the opposite hallway, the girls go back to chatting and my eyes sweep across the overly lavish but visually cold apartment, all in shades of white and grey.

“You made it sound as if we’d be securing someone famous,” Rosemary complains with a sigh. “I don’t recognize her.”

“I never said she’s the client,” Sara says. “That’s his mother.”

“His?” Willow chimes in and then they’re all giggling.

“Wait,” begins Collins, “if it’s is a guy, why did he request an all-girls team?”

“True, that's odd, I’ve only ever been put on the security detail of women.” Rosemary nods.

“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of pervert?” Willow’s eyes grow large with the speculation which earns her a smack from Rosemary. “What? I’ve seen worse.”

If they think a man having an all-female bodyguard team is pervy behavior, I wonder what they’d think about me. A scowl presses my face at that thought. They are all so nice, the least I can do is be a reliable co-worker and make their jobs easier.

“Enough,” Sara gently cuts into their ramblings but this doesn’t slow them down, instead they spear all their impatient questions at Sara whose face is all scrunched in frustration.

I breathe a quiet laugh, turning my attention back to the finesse decor. It must be impossible to keep this place clean, the grey walls are so tall and the furniture looks as though it would cost four arms and ten legs. The girls don’t seem even the slightest bit impressed by all this, they’ve barely taken a second to admire the impeccable design of this place. They have been in the field longer and have been exposed to so much more. Regardless of how humble they are about their experience, moments like this reveal the obvious difference between them and me. 

My curiosity leads me away from the girls to the assortment of crystal art on the grey walls, and then to the windows overlooking the frosting city of Bisari. Relaxing a soft breath, I blink at the skyline. Gazing at the city from behind this steel heaven is astonishing. The city appears calm and quaint. The bustle and clamoring are all so far away. I rest a palm against the glass, losing myself a bit more to the serenading view, the chattering of my co-workers fading behind my calm mind. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” a rather soft voice comes from behind me, one of the girls I presume. My lips curve up into a little smile. Finally, someone is taking notice of how impeccable this is instead of trying to decipher who the man we are here for is. 

“It’s… incredible,” I reply, not turning back to see which of the girls asked. “I have never seen anything like this before. I’m guessing you have?”

The silence stays a moment, though I’m not leaning into the brewing conversation. A part of me hopes she’ll walk away and allow me have this moment before he arrives and it's all work, the other part is simply glad to share my awe with someone. 

“You've never seen the city from this height?” the voice asks. 

With a nod I answer, “I have never been in a building this tall.”

The presence behind me grows thicker. A tall dark presence and a warm shiver spirals across my back for whatever reason. 

“I am your first then,” the once distant voice, now too close, says. 

Is that a man’s voice? I draw a sharp breath and hold it, a sense of alertness taking over me. 

I listen for the chatter of the girls only discover eerie silence that wasn’t there before. The air is calm, something cold about it. My lips part to offer a reply but no words make it through. I clear my throat instead and begin to turn around.

My gaze lands on a broad chest before I trail it upward in search of a face. Familiar dark eyes pierce mine and every single hair on my skin stands. For more than a few fleeting seconds, there is no air in my lungs, no beat to my heart. The walls around me begin to squeeze themselves, the ground below my feet sinks. 

Pete. The eyes piercing into mine belong to Pete. 

Fuck heavens.