11 h 43 AM

On her desk, Tayla is staring at the notes Clark gave her. The director has yet to call Geneviève, insecure. These notes confirm her suspicions. This isn’t just a vile attack from a mindless demon. Some cunning tactician is behind this assault. An unfortunate employee like Geneviève and Clark cannot be dragged in this mess any longer. Tayla must find who’s responsible herself.

After breathing in and out a few times, Tayla organizes the notes in a binder that she stores in her work bag. When she leaves her office, she is greeted by one of those foolish police officers (one of the two cadets, the poor soul) followed by…a woman. A very attractive greenhead.

This lady interacts with two employees and the officer, who all point at Tayla with the same gullible nature of children seeking to impress their mothers. The director and this strange lady get their first eye contact. The client (hopefully she’s a client) seems disoriented, a tourist who looks around like she got lost on her way to a much more impressive place. Spoiled brat are the first two words that would normally pop in Tayla’s head.

Instead…

The director is trembling.

Her whole body wants to retract and limp in an opposite direction.

Tayla’s breathing is faster, dense, barely keeping herself together.

Tayla knows exactly who’s in front of her right now. 

Unbelievable.

The director is mortified.

After ten years, this woman just appears in front of Tayla, out of thin air.

Before the director could even speak a word, the young greenhead walks towards her to a faster rhythm, nearly tripping on herself with the grace of a rat pretending to do ballet. She awkwardly composes herself in front of the director, blushing out of embarrassment and laughing, nervous.

Tayla senses that something isn’t right. It’s the color of the client’s eyes, cosmic purple, that throws her previous judgements for a spin.

“H-Hi, hum, Madame Tayla!”, speaks the strange woman, still blushing. “Heum… Comment allez-vous aujourd’hui?(How are you today?)”

The woman, in her embarrassment, speaks loud enough for people in the library to hear her.

Clark, books in hands, definitely hears this and is immediately confused.

“Sorry, but I do not speak old Atmoscian”, states Tayla.

“Oh! W-Well, regardless I wanted to learn more about you and Vil de Ville’s origins! My name’s Riana, nice to meet you!”

Riana leads for a hand shake. Her smile is delicate, rendering her unease as attractive. Tayla can see why the men here have been bewitched by this newcomer.

“Right… Nice to meet you.”

The hand shake is as delicate as it was presented. Riana seems a bit unsure and even impressed, in an innocent way, too gullible to hide her surprise. The employees too are stoked. A group of six of them, Clark and Geneviève included, are gathered to look at this baffling scenario.

Bafflement comes from Tayla’s usual temper when it comes to intruders and orders being broken. Men, women and sometimes children all suffered the dark, brooding wrath of Tayla the Grim at least once in their puny lives (Alex gave her that nickname one day and was banned from entry at Vil de Ville for 60 days) .

And now comes this one damsel, with such bourgeois energy, as she hypnotizes her way into having the sanest conversation the Vil de Ville staff has seen Tayla partake in. She even got a handshake from the director (she better go to the lottery after that) !

“Must be weird to end up in a place like this, lady Riana. Do Vil de Ville and I reach your standards?” Asks Tayla, still feeling a sense of discomfort.

“Actually…” Riana hesitates, with a bit of shame peaking through her tone. “I would say yes, though I was expecting a lot worst from you in terms of…character. Your attitude right now doesn’t feel natural”, admits the young lady.

Geneviève, from the tiny crowd, listens to the bizarre conversation semi-interested.

Tayla shows restraint to someone who just broke the rules, in a situation as appaling as Vil de Ville loosing important files to theives with possible mutations. What does she mean by “must be weird to end up in a place like this” anyway?

Something bothers her to the point of skipping a few bits and pieces of this legendary interaction, and it’s the legendary way this piece of filth called Clark Deschaines is staring at this green-haired wench, because why else would he be red as a tomato right now?

Clark doesn’t understand what’s going on right now. He’s about to drop the books on the floor. 

Maybe it’s the colored hair. Perhaps it’s her spontaneous, shy and carefree attitude. Her clothing makes her look sexy and attractive, granted, but it’s not risqué to the point of losing one’s virtue. Clark’s heart is pounding to the beat of a thousand drums. He feels like a carousel transported against his will into frenzied palpitations, roses from majestic gardens and snow mountains in his imaginary background with trees everywhere (yo Clark loves trees)! The sun is shining, the blue sky is cloud-free, of a beauty he’s never felt before! 

All this to say, Clark fell for love at first sight.

Geneviève is about to take his love and shove it where it hurts.

Suddenly, Tayla steps in. 

“Alright everybody, go back to work! Remember that we open in less than an hour and a half. Return to your posts please, thank you!” Yells the director.

Both Clark and Geneviève, enamored by their different feelings, are brought back to reality by this callout. Immediately, Geneviève shifts into damage control.

“Alright Clark, let’s get the heck outta here for the love of all that is good on this planet! Tayla would be far more than just upset and-!”

“Love of all that is good…!” Is the only thing Clark’s brain keeps intact.

He takes one huge breath. As the other employees are gone, Geneviève and Tayla (Also Alex. can’t forget about Alex) observes the young black man, as he gathers all his testosterone and walks straight towards the director and the invitee, both confused (one is more baffled then the other, you can guess who). Then, in this obligatory moment to face one of his biggest fears, Clark chooses to do what (probably) a few men before him failed to do: ask this poor greenhead out on a date with the ferocity of a lion. 

Geneviève can feel her heart sink, like a dying ship in a sea of dead stars.

Clark is so anxious he’s forcing his body, nearly sculpted in marble, to tremble like a leaf in the wind. This act of bravery bears enormous stakes for the young man.

For ordinary people, it’s about presenting who we are, sneak into the conversation, introduce ourselves and his interests, and spend a few minutes to get a feel for the person and see if we want to proceed further with the lady.

(Did I mention that Clark has zero experience with women?)

So Clark has zero experience with women.

It’s this same lack of experience that granted him all the excuses in the books to see Geneviève as anything but a compatible romantic partner for the last three years.

The same Geneviève who is boiling hot right now, thinking of a scheme as she dashes to the antique section right in front of the entertainment section where Clark was at prior.

The young black man is an imposing head taller than Tayla and the lustrous Riana. The director gets upset when she sees the nervousness of her dumbfounded employee.

“Mister Deschaines, I did ask everyone, including you, to go back to work. Is there something this urgent you need to tell me?” coldly shoots Tayla at her tense employee.

Because of his increased anxiety, Clark cannot see that his boss is trying desperately to keep everybody away from this mysterious woman. They are both tense and jumpy for two opposite reasons. Tayla is positively livid.

Clark is one stubborn guy, and so moves on with the grace of a foot stumbling on a banana peel.

“Actually, I… Okay how can i say this, hum, I do nut-shit-I... I wouldn’t wanna talk…don’t wanna talk to you right now…?”

Bubbling on his words to the point of barely understanding himself? Check. He’s so red in the face he’s about to turn purple.

“Excuse me?” Questions the director with her piercing stare. “I suggest you watch your mouth, Deschaines.”

When Tayla calls you by your family name only, you kiss that sweet positive day of yours goodbye.

“Really seriously didn’t mean to insult you! My goal was not to do that! I’m so so sorry!”

Riana can only look at the scene confused, but with a smile on her face, her shyness fading in the background.

Suddenly, screams come from the antique section of Vil de Ville. No explanation. No nothing. All staff members on the scene are on high alert.

Immediately, Clark’s absurd scene in front of the director turns into a show of professional endeavor, as he pulls a complete one eighty.

“Madame McKenzie, can you hold this for a second?”, says Clark before giving her the books of Jano the Adventurer. Tayla looks at the book, stupefied. A part of her wants to go and handle the situation, since the scream indicated something dire. 

The problem’s the lady by her side. Now that Clark is gone, Tayla has breathing room to handle this overwhelming situation properly.

“Hum, Madame McKenzie, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I gotta feel I can handle the books in your hand”, states Alex calmly while walking towards both.

Tayla and this nonchalant fellow have a strange eye contact, before Alex winks from the right eye. This sign almost reassures the director, as she passes the books to her employee. Riana observes this interaction with a keen eye. The man walks away as if he’s vanishing from the scene, one of the last employees headed to the antique section. Before the newcomer could interject on what just happened, Tayla leads the conversation forward.

“If you don’t mind, we are indeed facing a chaotic morning. Let’s have a small coffee together. This will be better suited for the conversation you want to have”.

Riana is taken aback, but she accepts this alternative. Speaking to Tayla was her main reason to be here after all.

Meanwhile, Alex checks in the Antique room, only to find that a ton of relics got ragdolled around the large space, with Clark having to deal with employees explaining what happened in the madness at the same time as cleaning everything in extremis before Vil de Ville reopens. 

Geneviève is nowhere to be found. 

Alex can’t help but lose his edge, as he sighs to himself in embarrassment.

“Oh my goodness, not again. Please be careful…”, he whispers to himself.