***



ELSEWHERE…

Santa Monica Pier! A staple landmark of Los Angeles for the past 100 years old, this waterfront is ¼ of a mile of arcades, restaurants, stores and even an aquarium! And now, close of the far end, over a thousand people gather on the wooden boards around a stage emblazoned with the name of C-King.

“This is a lot of fucking people…” Kilo mutters under his breath as Jerome’s limousine pulls up to the iconic entrance archway.

“Well of course it is! They’re here for the legendary duet of C-King and Trish Una!!” Shizuka cries, giddy beyond reason.

“SHHH!! Keep that quiet, gurl!” Jerome chides, “You still the only civilian that know about that. Most people don’t even know she in the country right now!”

“Why is she going through this much trouble for one show?” Kilo asks.

“I don’t know, mang, she’s European.” Jerome brushes off.

“What does that have to do with it?” he presses, but is then drowned out by the roar of the crowd. The limo drives slowly down the boardwalk, velvet ropes separating the driveway from the walk way of pedestrians. Shizuka looks out through the blackened windows in excitement, while Kilo remains ambivalent. The limo reaches the venue, lights shining and music already playing to pump up the crowd.

Once they reach the concert venue, they drive behind it to avoid rabid fans and the press. “OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD–!!” Shizuka babbles, bouncing in place.

“Shizu, I get it, but when we go in, be coo. I don’t want Trish thinkin’ I brough no crazies backstage wit’ me.” Jerome says, suddenly concerned.

The door opens and the gang are escorted out into the green room. There, Jerome’s star guest waits patiently: Trish Una.

She counts the bullets in her hand, having six, and puts a string between them. With this bullet necklace, she puts it around her neck and faces the entourage that just came into her dressing room.

“And just where the hell have you been?!” she yells before Jerome has a chance to say anything.

“Come on now, don’t be like that,” Jerome stammers, “I told you, I missed rehearsal because I hadda help out some of my buddies. Speaking of, these are-”

He is cut off before he can speak further, as a pink and blonde blur speeds past him and leaps towards the Italian lady with a delighted cry of “TRISH UNA!!”

“Shizu NOOOO!!” Jerome shouts as the security guards and stage crew react. Kilo scowls and opens his palms, but everyone relaxes when Trish raises her hands.

“It’s ok, everyone.”

“It is?” say Jerome and Kilo.

“It is?!!” squeals Shizuka, before getting off the star, “Oh God I’m sorry I didn’t even think about what I was doing I’m not usually like this please don’t hate me I’ve just been a fan of yours for such a long time and–”





“Jerome, is this one of yours?” Trish asks while Shizuka continues to ramble.

“Uh, yeah, she with me.”

“I’m still mad at you for being late, but any friend of yours is welcome. Let’s go get ready, shall we?” When Jerome nods in agreement, she pats Shizuka on the head, saying, “Would you like to come with us backstage?”

“Y-y-yes please,” Shizuka finally replies, after stammering for around a minute.

Outside, flying way above, a drone aims its camera right towards them. On the other side, watching through into a webcam, a light from a laptop illuminates a disturbed face, otherwise shrouded in shadow.

END OF CHAPTER THIRTEEN