fame & fatalities (harlem's fanfic)

when will i update? i dunno. i won't have a set schedule because i probably will never meet the deadline. i'll update whenever a chapter is finished, which won't take very long, hopefully.

- prologue (this post)
- chapter one (nick)
- chapter two (mira)

feel free to comment on this topic. just don't spam or start like conversations. please dont be a silent reader, let me know what you think - i'm genuinely curious.
trigger warning(s) - blood, guns, bullets.

prologue~

Darkness was the only thing that was present in the room. Whether it be from the lack of light bulbs, or the lack of light in the hearts of offenders, the room was dark. Tools and weapons were stacked in the corners, covered in dust, dirt, and grime, and tiny bugs crawled up and down their hilts. Spiderwebs and cobwebs had seemed to multiply, and they decorated the shadowed corners, making them dirtier than they should be. The floor was covered in dozens and dozens of muddy, dusty shoeprints. It was almost impossible to know that the floor had once been gray, considering that the murky brown color was starting to take over.

Even the ceiling was suffering. It was chipping away, and small pieces often fell to the ground, causing a wave of dust to fall upon anyone who’s misfortune caused them to be drenched in grime. This room barely had any positive uses, except if you wanted to hide away from the hands of those that were trying so desperately to find you. Upon taking a slight glance at one of the corners, it would’ve been quite hard to see if anyone was in there, especially if they were wearing black from top to bottom. When taking a few steps closer, it might’ve become easier to spot someone, but their colorless disguise would’ve kept them blended in with the eerie shadows.

All that could be done in that situation was staying still and keeping completely silent. Even the slightest noise could set something off, considering that the room itself was dead quiet. Knowing that life was on the line was a very good motivator.

One of the dark corners concealed a young woman. She was short in size yet tall in spirit, had fur the color of freshly-fallen snow, and had light blue eyes that glittered like the crystals that were found in those expensive jewelry stores. Shivers continuously went down her spine as she pressed herself against the dirty wall of the room. Even though her partner was hiding in the corner that was opposite to her, she still felt uncomfortable in his absence, and she longed to run over to where he was standing and stay there until it was time to move, again. It pained her that she couldn’t do so. Her breaths came in short, choppy exhales as she moved her glittering gaze to look at the door at the front of the room. The glass on the top half of the wooden door was shattered, leaving a notable hole in the middle, and the wood itself was old and rotting. The sight was disgusting, and the woman knew that what was on the other side of the door was even more revolting. As slow footsteps made their way toward the doorway, the blue-eyed woman kept herself from letting out any noises, and she stayed pressed against the wall. They were coming. They were coming for her, and they were coming from her partner.

Hidden in the corner directly across from the woman’s was a young man. He was also quite short in size, but he was always willing to prove that his size didn’t make him any less capable of accomplishments. His ginger fur was smooth and well-kept, which wasn't something expected of red foxes. His big, bright green eyes seemed to glow as if his irises were made of LED lights, and they burned as if thousands of green flames had been kindled in those pupils. Those two eyes seemed to possess an unexplainable intensity that could make anyone melt with just a mere glance. He was more worried about his partner than he was worried about the creepy sound of footsteps that were approaching the door. Nothing could happen to her… no harm could ever come to her. That was why he was staring at the door with a gaze that could practically set the wood and broken glass ablaze.

A sudden pang of anticipation struck the hearts of the pair as the door slowly began to open with a loud, painful creak. Two-no, three masked figures made their way into the filthy room, and the pair began to grow jealous, figuring that they should’ve worn masks of their own to keep the dust away from their faces. The tallest one with the biggest mask glanced around the room before letting out a deep chuckle that echoed around the room.

“Did you really think you could hide?” It said, crossing its arms and shaking its head as if it was disappointed, “I expected so much more from you two.”
“I don’t see anyone, boss.” The shortest one muttered.
The boss let out an irritated huff, “Open your eyes, idiot.”
Almost like a flash of lightning, the tall one darted forward and grabbed the wrist of the crystal-eyed woman. She let out a shriek of protest as an arm was wrapped around her neck, and she was pulled closer to the chest of the boss. She was at his mercy, now.

“Why don’t you scream for your little boy toy?” The boss taunted, “He’s the only one who can save you, now.”
The woman struggled to breathe as the arm around her neck squeezed tighter, “Ni-Nick, he-help…”

With a murderous glare, the one named Nick slowly and silently stepped out of the shadows.
“Don’t struggle, Mira.” He warned, taking another step forward.
“Easy for you to say.” She whispered in one exhale, struggling to inhale afterwards.
“Since I’d like to consider myself to be quite the bargainer, I want to make a deal with you.” The boss said in the calmest voice possible.

Nick continued to stare viciously at the masked figure that was holding his partner captive.

“Give me the microchips, and I will set your precious gem free.”
The green-eyed man stared down at the small, green bag that was tied to the belt of his pitch black jeans. The microchips inside were dangerous, deadly, if one knew how to use it, and Nick knew that handing them over to the boss would be a horrible mistake.
However, seeing the tears beginning to gather in Mira’s eyes and hearing her painful inhales and exhales was enough to motivate him.

After untying the bag from his belt, Nick held it out for the boss to grab.
“N-no, wh-what are you doi-doing?” Mira asked, staring at her partner as if he was insane.

He had a plan, but he wasn’t about to share it in front of the boss.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” The tall one said with laughter in his voice, and his two minions began to chortle from where they stood behind. The boss shoved Mira forward, and she crashed to the ground with a thud.

The small bag was instantly snatched from Nick’s hand. The crystal-eyed woman dragged herself behind her partner, feeling safe and protected now that he was in front of her.
“Oh, believe me,” Nick muttered, discreetly reaching behind his back for his gun, “The pleasure is all mine.”

Two shots echoed furiously throughout the room.

The shortest minion collapsed on the dusty ground, blood streaming out of his chest. The second minion and the boss both turned their heads so that they could get a glimpse of their dead companion. Mira rose to her feet, letting out a couple of strained coughs before clenching her fists and glaring at the two thugs that were remaining.

Nick gave her a reassuring smile, “You okay?”
She nodded, returning the grin, “Fine. Thanks.”
Mira leaned in close to her partner’s ear, “Why’d you give him the microchips?”
A suave smirk grew on the green-eyed man’s face as he calmly clasped his hands behind his back, “Trust me on this one.”

Mira shot her partner an incredulous glance, but her gaze soon returned to the boss and the remaining thug who were starting to recover from the shock of watching one of their own be shot.
“It really has been fun!” The minion snickered, “But we’ve gotta dash!”
“Don’t speak for me, you idiot!” The boss shrieked, violently slapping his minion on the back of the head before clutching the microchip bag tighter and racing out the door. The minion, rubbing his head, followed almost too eagerly.

Mira gasped, clutching Nick’s arm, “I thought you said I could trust you!”
“You can. C’mon.”

The pair didn’t hesitate to follow swiftly after the thugs. No matter what, those microchips couldn’t fall into the wrong hands, again. Tiny clouds of dust picked up as the two chased rapidly after the offenders. Dirt and grime fell from the ceiling, and a few brown flakes even landed on Mira’s head. Disgust filled the woman from head to toe as she cleared the dirt from her head and let it drop ungracefully to the rotting ground. The only thing the thugs had to do in order to escape was open a door… but unfortunately for them, that door had a keypad. It was old, rusty, and it seemed harmless, but it was still in effect. Even though the goons had managed to crack the code that unlocked the door from the outside, they had no idea what the code was in order to open the door from the inside. Plus, their rather large, black gas masks made it harder to see the tiny numbers on the metal keypad in front of them.

“Gah, hurry up, you fool!” The boss exclaimed, glaring at his minion as he tried to type numbers into the rusty keypad.
“Get the door open, I’ll distract them,” Nick whispered into his partner’s ear before letting two shots ring out from his gun.

One hit the keypad directly in the middle, damaging it completely. Sparks flew from its insides and wires hung loosely. The other shot struck the minion straight in the arm. Dark blood from the wound hit the rotting wood of the door with a disgusting splattering sound. A low yet loud scream erupted from the thug’s throat, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching his arm.

“You really should learn what a deal means. We had a bargain - the microchips for the life of your little sweetheart, and you can’t take it back now, or else I’ll kill her.”
Nick clenched his fists, “You can kill her over my dead body.”
The boss crossed his arms, “More fun for me, then.”
With that, the two lunged at each other, getting into a violent scuffle that resulted in Nick giving the boss a forceful punch to the eye that the offender wouldn’t soon forget.

Mira, staying silent and quick, crept over to the wooden door and ignored the sparks that were flying from the broken keypad. Since the door was so old, and the wood was rotting away, all Mira had to do was weaken it some more. Pulling out her largest knife, the arctic fox began to ram the weapon viciously into the wood, and she received the rewarding sounds of wood splitting every single time. After a couple more strong hits, the center of the door caved in, and a small sized hole was left. Mira reached her arm through the hole, grabbed on to the handle on the outside, and opened the door with a satisfying click.

“Nick, come on!” She shouted.
Despite being in the middle of a blood-pumping fight, Mira’s partner managed to hook his arm around, grab the microchip bag from the boss, and dart away before he could be harmed or touched anymore. Anger flooded the tall goon from head to toe.
“Nice one, Mira.” Nick complimented his companion as he grabbed her arm and hauled her out of the doorway.

The only threat on their tail was the boss, who was hopelessly chasing after them, wanting to get his hands on the small bag that held so much power. Mira, not knowing what else to do, grabbed one of Nick’s guns from the holster and fired a shot directly at the boss’s mask. The glass on the eye-holes of the gas mask shattered, and the bullet flew straight through with ease. Mira winced as she figured that the bullet whizzed through her enemy’s eye. As expected, the boss collapsed on the ground with a grunt, and couldn’t keep up the chase.

The pair of partners had never been gladder to see a shiny, black Jeep up ahead.

“Get in.” Nick ushered Mira into the shotgun seat before heading around to the other side.
The engine started, the gear was pushed forward, the pedal was pressed, and the wheels proceeded to roll forward.

Silence was shared between the two for a few minutes as they both attempted to catch their breaths.

“You have the microchips, right?” Mira suddenly asked.
Nick nodded, “It’s in the back.”
“We didn’t kill the boss… do you think we’ll be sent back to finish him off, tomorrow night?”
“No,” The red fox shook his head, handling the steering wheel with only one palm, “We have a concert tomorrow.”
Mira clasped her hands in her lap, “O-oh, right. Are we free anytime this weekend?”
“Concert Friday, rehearsals Saturday, another concert on Sunday. There’s no way we’ll be put on another mission until at least Monday.” Nick answered, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Well, at least that gives us a bit of a break…” The arctic fox muttered, hopefully.

Perhaps Mira was right. Perhaps it was just a little break for both of them. However, work was just getting started for the boss, who was still laying in the empty lot, tending to their eye in aimless vain.
“I’ll kill her,” He muttered, taking his mask off and placing a hand over his damaged eye, “I’ll k-kill him. I’ll kill them both. I’ll get those microchips back, whether they like it or not…”

end.

A/N - sorry for causing you pain bye

chapter one ~
nick’s pov ●

The warm sunshine of a summertime Friday morning shone brightly through the window of my bedroom. Luckily for me, I slept with my back facing the light, so I wouldn’t wake up every morning and risk being blinded by the sun’s rays. I let my eyes adjust to light before turning over in my bed and staring at the window and the sights outside. As usual, all there was to see was the tops of buildings… buildings as far as the eye could see. Some were taller than others, they all had different color schemes, different glass windows, different themes, but they all just seemed to be the same when you really thought about it. I was used to seeing a bustling city outside, I had grown up in one, after all. Perhaps most people would complain about the fact that the countryside was far more beautiful than a city, but I saw LA as my urban paradise.

It was hard to not love California. There were cities, there were beaches, there were countrysides, and there were even deserts. Sure, the heat here was like standing in the middle of an oven on the sun, but it Californians learned to get used to it. I mean, I’d rather by stuck in the middle of heat than stuck in the middle of the intense cold that usually hit northern states. Despite the fact that last night had been rough - I had almost lost the microchip bag and Mira - I was in an oddly good mood this morning. It was strange, considering that I was a natural night owl.

Deciding to not overthink it and put myself in a worse mood, I grabbed my black glasses off of the counter beside my bed and positioned them on my face. It felt better than wearing contacts. The struggle of having to get them in and get them out was something that I felt to be completely unnecessary. All I had to do with glasses was put them on my face. I didn’t have to fight myself to get out of bed this morning. I quickly scrambled out of bed and raced over to the window to move the curtains back all the way. Now, I could see everything. A grin grew on my face as my eyes swept over my home, the place I had grown up in my entire life.

Gosh, how is it possible for one place to be so beautiful?

Continuing to smile, I turned to head to the bathroom to change and freshen up. Do I really need to explain any more of what happened there? Like, it wasn’t even pertinent to the story, for god’s sake. I kept a calm smile on my face as I made my way out of my room and downstairs to the living room.

“Mira?” I called, wondering if she was awake, yet.

I guess not.

I decided that it would probably be wise to embrace the silence. I did appreciate Mira and the fact that she loved to talk, but I supposed that everyone needed some sort of quiet serenity.

It was still rather hard to believe that I lived in this building, a five-star modern condominium. Was this one of the perks of being famous? I had never thought that being wealthy would have so many incredible additions. When I had first moved here, getting lost was something that became a habit. I’d find myself heading toward Mira’s room, then I’d end up in the living room, and then I’d end up in the rec room. Fortunately, that didn’t happen anymore. Now, don’t get me wrong, being famous was only half fun. The other half was stress and schedules. There would be days when Mira and I would be able to simply stay home and relax, but other days would be filled to the brim with endless choreography rehearsals, fan meet and greets, recording sessions, interviews, concerts, and board meetings with the label. I wasn’t a huge fan of the slow and boring meetings, but I knew that they all resulted in positive things for me and Mira.

Ah, that’s right… there was Mira. She was quite possibly the greatest part of being famous. I got to be with her every single day. Every song we produced included both of us, and I liked it that way. There would probably never be a time where my career would move on without her. The two of us have been together since we were mere infants, so it was impossible for us to split apart, now. I began to wonder if she was okay as I made my way toward the kitchen. She was an early bird, and that meant that she was usually up before me. I could’ve gone back upstairs to check on her, but I needed coffee, first. Functioning without coffee was something that I found to be impossible. I used to hate coffee, I had thought it was bland and disgusting, but I had found myself loving both the taste and the energy burst it gave me after it got me through many sleepless nights and tiresome mornings. It took ages for the stupid machine to pour out some coffee, even after I made sure that it was plugged in and functioning.

“Maybe, if you work faster next time, I’ll actually thank you,” I muttered, not even caring that I was talking to inanimate machinery.
As I walked out into the living room, I heard laughter coming from the stairs.
“I know right?” Mira’s voice rang out, loud and clear, “It was so awkward, too! Like, I remember you staring at her like she was some sort of idiot.”

Her phone was pressed against her ear as she skipped down the staircase. When she locked eyes with me, I gave her a small wave, not wanting to interrupt her phone conversation. Knowing Mira, she was probably engaged in a gossip conversation with another one of her best friends, Ettie. Ettie wasn’t nearly as close to me as she was to Mira, but the two of us were still decent friends. I managed to catch a couple of words that Mira’s friend said from the other side of the line, and all I could decipher was that it was something about mini skirts.

“Agh, it really was hideous. I didn’t want to say anything about it because I don’t like to hurt people’s feelings, but goodness, it was so… awful!”
I caught some of Ettie’s unique laughter from where I stood. There was some more talking between the two, and then Mira eventually said her goodbyes and hung up.

“Good morning, my love,” I said as soon as my girlfriend hung up with a smile on my face.
“Oh, good morning, Nick!”
She gave me a slight kiss on the cheek.

“Geez, Ettie is so hilarious,” She began, facing away from me and heading toward the kitchen, “I’m so glad that I have a girl to talk to. Like, you’re awesome and all, but there’s a lot of things that you wouldn’t understand.”
I blinked in slight confusion as I followed her to the kitchen, “Oh? What kind of things wouldn’t I get?”
Mira shrugged, “Makeup and fashion. Plus, I can’t engage in boy talk with you.”
I blinked, frowning, “You and Ettie talk about boys…?”

A beautiful laugh erupted from my girlfriend’s mouth, “Well, yeah! It’s mainly boys that Ettie likes. I only have my eyes on one guy.”
“Who?”
“You, silly.”
Another grin broke out on my face, “Oh, yay!”
“I can’t believe you had to ask.” Mira snorted.
I raised my hands in mock surrender, “I was just making sure!”

Mira opened her mouth to laugh, but she ended up coughing, instead. My smile disappeared, and I furrowed my brows in worry.
“Is your throat okay? I know you were coughing last night.”
“Eh,” Mira answered, nonchalantly, “Being choked doesn’t really leave positive after-effects. It’ll go away, though.”
I pulled her in a side hug, “Alright, well, I’m glad you’re okay.”
She rested her head on my shoulder, “Pft, I’m glad I’m okay, too.”

When we pulled away, I took another sip of my coffee and watched as Mira headed into the living room. Coffee was great, but it wasn’t filling, and I wouldn’t be able to make it through choreography rehearsals if I didn’t eat something. I sighed, reaching for the refrigerator handle. All I knew was that I had some leftover pizza bagels left from a few nights ago. Despite the fact that Mira and I could be deemed as rather serious, anyone was close to us knew that we were actually quite silly. Keeping this in mind, the only thing I could do was whine when I opened up the fridge.

My pizza bagels were gone.

“Miraaa!” I shouted, imitating a young child, “Someone ate my pizza bagels!”
“You ate your own pizza bagels!” She called back.
I rolled my eyes, shifting through the food in the fridge to see if the Ziploc bag that contained my pizza bagels was hidden somewhere in the back.
“Why would I eat my own pizza bagels and then complain about it?”
“I dunno. Why would you? You finished them two nights ago. I told you that you should save them for Friday, but you were so determined to prove me wrong! This is no one’s fault but yours.”

I frowned, shaking my head, “Well, can you go to the store and get more for me?”
Mira responded with an incredulous voice, “I’m not going to the grocery store to buy you something that you ate yourself.”
“Please?” My voice rose as I began to beg.
“No.”

Ugh.

“Whatever,” I mumbled, slamming the fridge closed and shooting it a murderous glare, “I’ll just starve myself.”
I headed out of the kitchen, feeling very disappointed with the fact that I wouldn’t be eating the leftovers that I had been looking forward to. I supposed that I was my own enemy in this one situation.
“I don’t feel like having rehearsals, today,” Mira complained as she grabbed her black purse off of her wall hook by the door.
I pushed my glasses up my nose, “I don’t feel like it either. At least we have a concert, tonight. Those are fun, right?”

My girlfriend nodded at me, smiling.
I couldn’t manage to return to the smile.

“If you have anything special you wanna tell me, you should probably do it, now. You know our manager doesn’t want us acting like a couple in front of anyone.”
Mira crossed her arms, “I know. It sucks. One day he’ll change his mind, though… hopefully.”
I let out a dry laugh, “Yeah, sure.”

Our manager, Mr. Aaron, was a tall gray fox that loved to order other animals around. He always believed that he was right, and he barely ever took the time to listen to any opinions that weren’t his own. Becoming Mira’s boyfriend was quite possibly the greatest day of my entire life, but Mr. Aaron had hated the fact that we were dating. According to him, more females would continue to join our fanbase if they believed that I was single, solely because they thought they’d have a chance with me. I had no idea what made Mr. Aaron think that complete strangers would ever believe that they could even come close to dating me, but he stuck to his decision like glue. Mira and I were officially banned from acting like a couple in public, and we couldn’t even be ourselves in front of our coworkers. It hurt me every time I thought about it, and I was sure that it hurt Mira, too. I didn’t want the world to think that I was just friends with Mira, I wanted the world to know that my heart had been stolen by the most miraculous woman that I had ever known.

“Well,” Mira began, “Ready to tackle a new day?”
I locked my lips with hers for a short amount of time, nodding eagerly as I pulled away.
“As long as you’re by my side, yes.”

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If there was one thing that I loved besides Mira, it would probably be my DJ table. Besides writing songs with Mira, singing those songs, and dancing with her during concerts, my job was to mix the instrumentals for all our songs. It wasn’t like it was something I hated. I loved it, actually. Ever since I was young, the background music was something that I paid attention to the most in a song. The large, black DJ table in front of me was accented with neon green, something that I had added myself after buying it, and it was quite possibly my most favorite thing in the world. I had had it for so long, it was practically a part of me.
There had been this one time when a co-worker had spilt a bit of coffee on it. Me, in a very rational fit of rage, had gotten that co-worker fired. She had deserved it! Nobody, and I mean nobody, was allowed to touch my DJ table.

Er, except for Mira, of course.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I whispered, hugging the black rectangle of metal, “I never knew it was possible to love something so much.”

“Are you insane?” A familiar voice asked from behind me.

“Love makes you do insane things, Ettie.” I explained, hugging my DJ table tighter.
Ettie walked into the room, her high heels making clicking noises on the shiny wooden floor.
“Just you wait until I tell Mira that you’re cheating on her with a table.”
Ettie was the only co-worker that knew about the relationship that Mira and I had.

I placed a hand on my heart, hurt and shocked, “This isn’t just a table! It’s my legacy! How would you like it if I called one of your makeup materials a mere brush?”
“I’d kill you.” The young woman responded, nodding.

Ettie was around Mira’s height with bright hazel eyes and snowy white fur. If talking to my girlfriend was interesting, then talking to Ettie was horrifying. She said some odd things sometimes, and she was often teased by other co-workers for having such a high-pitched voice. I, for one, thought it was unique, and hearing her voice in the morning was like some sort of natural wake up call.

“Welp, you ready for your rehearsals?” She asked, sitting down beside me.
I shook my head, “Not really. They’re exhausting, and I’d rather sit beside my DJ table all day.”
Ettie let out that happy, high-pitched laugh of hers, “You have a concert, tonight, silly! If you don’t practice, you’ll forget the moves and fail in front of hundreds of your adoring fans.”
“We’ve been practicing for so long, though!” I groaned, stroking the smooth, black metal of my DJ table, “I could do the dance moves in my sleep!”

“If I walked into your room tonight, would I really see you trying to dance in your sleep?”
“Probably.” I muttered, sadly.
Ettie’s laughter was interrupted by footsteps heading up to the doorway. I glanced up to meet Mira’s eyes, and I couldn’t help but smile once I saw her glowing face.

“Nick, it’s time to rehearse.” She told me, waving at Ettie.
“That’s your cue!” Ettie nudged me, “I’ll watch your DJ table if you want.”
I gently pushed my friend away, “You’re not allowed to touch it. Go clean your makeup brushes or something.”

Mira rolled her eyes at my obsession and headed away to meet me in the rehearsal room.
The hazel-eyed woman beside me stood up and offered me a hand as I rose to my feet, “I’m starting to think you love that thing more than you love Mira.”

I planted a kiss on the top of my precious DJ table before shrugging and heading toward the door, “Nah. I love Mira more. Quit judging me, Ettie… you act like you’ve never seen a guy and his beautiful mixer in love before.”
“That’s because I haven’t…” Was Ettie’s response as she trudged out the door and left me by the doorway.

I straightened my glasses on my face as I stared at my DJ table, “She’s just jealous because she’s never experienced a romance like the one that we have.”
With a huff, I closed the door and locked it (because I needed to keep my precious mixer safe, duh) and headed down the hall to join Mira in the rehearsal room.
Boy, was I looking forward to yet another busy day.

end.

A/N - i love nick he's my adorable son and i will protecc forever kbye let me know what you think im very curious

wowie im actually uploading regularly and not being lazy (ish) what a shocker
y'all are being silent readers and im scared because im curious as to what people think
so im going to start asking opinion questions at the end of every chapter and if you respond you will get my love and appreciation
if not, you'll get my hatred and disgust im kidding i love everyone

chapter two ~
mira's pov ●

Performing at the Staples Center was something that I had gotten used to, and while it was a milestone or an accomplishment for other entertainers and performers, this stadium was practically my second home. I knew the stage by heart, I knew where everything was, and some of the staff members were used to seeing me and Nick. However, I never ended up taking this place for granted. Whenever I walked through the doors of the Staples Center, it was like falling asleep and entering one of those repetitive dreams. Over and over again, I would take confident strides down the hallway, turn into my usual dressing room, and listen to Ettie gossip about the other co-workers as she worked on my face with her brushes, pens, and glosses like it was the easiest and most casual thing in the world. I would tell her that I was a bit nervous every time, and she would shut down my nerves by telling me some sort of joke.

She would hand me the neon light blue dress that I always wore during performances and order me to go change. I’d change, she’d wait, and the proud smile on her face whenever I walked out made me glow with warmth. Then, of course, there was the jacket - the sleek, shiny, leather jacket that was always worn during concerts, no matter the circumstance. Nick even had one of his own. The two jackets had quite the backstory. We had got them our first day as college graduates, making a promise that we’d wear them together during important events as a silent sign of unity.

The only thing that had bothered us about the jackets had been the obnoxious golden zippers. So, we had taken them in to get the zippers removed. However, the golden track that the zipper ran along had remained. It was a nice little detail that we had decided to keep. Whenever I put that black jacket on, I felt more powerful than I actually was. A smile crossed my features as I slipped into my black ankle boots, and Ettie was nodding her head, pride glittering in her eyes.

“Beautiful, Mira - as always.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, pulling her into a hug.
“So,” My friend starting, smugly, “When will Prince Charming be here to sweep you away to the stage?”

I shook my head, giving Ettie a sad smile, “He’s not allowed to sweep me away, remember? We can’t disclose the fact that we’re dating. Mr. Aaron will get mad if he even holds my hand in public, and plenty of friends hold hands!”
My hazel-eyed friend rolled her eyes, grabbing her makeup brush and beginning to add a bit more blush to my cheeks, “Ugh, Mr. Aaron’s probably just a jealous pig because his former fiancée broke up with him. She hated the fact that he was so stubborn and picky, and now, she’s happily married to her true love.”

I couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow in confusion. How did Ettie know about any of this? Mr. Aaron hated mentioning anything about his past, even to his own clients.
“I know some dirty secrets about lots and lots of animals.” She explained, nonchalantly, before turning and placing her makeup brush down.

“I kind of envy Mr. Aaron’s ex. She doesn’t have to hold back her relationship from the public.” I sighed, straightening my jacket and brushing down the skirt of my dress.
“You won’t have to keep it a secret for long, I know it.” Ettie promised, trying her hardest to reassure me.
That was when the melodic sound of beautiful singing drifted into my ears. I instantly knew who it was coming from, and my entire face began to heat up as I realized that Nick was coming down the hallway.
“Here comes Prince Charming!” Ettie smirked at me over her shoulder, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.
Not wanting to be embarrassed by my friend any further, I walked past Ettie and stood in the doorway, only to be face to face with my boyfriend.

“O-oh, hi, Ni-”
He practically shouted in my face, “Mira!”
“Ye-?”
“It’s showtime!”
Nick began to do a small happy dance, but I stopped him by gingerly tapping the nose of his glasses, “You haven’t put your contacts in, yet.”

“Eh? But I hate those stupid contacts. They’re a bother to put in, they’re a bother to take out, and they never feel right in my eye. Why can’t I just wear my glasses on stage?”
I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “Mr. Aaron doesn’t want you wearing glasses on stage. He thinks it’s nerdy.”
Nick’s brilliant green eyes shone with indignation as he crossed his arms and stared at me, “Well, I think ‘nerdy’ is a compliment.”
“You’re right, it is, and I think that guys with glasses are cute, but we have to listen to the label.”
My boyfriend snorted, straightening his black jacket, “Pft, 'listen to the label'. All we do is listen to the label. What if I don’t wanna listen to the label?”

My voice remained quiet, “Then Mr. Aaron will drop us, and we won’t have a manager. Is that what you want?”

Nick sighed, “No.”
“Go put your contacts in.”

Disappointment was evident in his downcast expression as Nick turned on his heel and headed back to his dressing room.
Ettie let out a loud, dramatic sigh, and I flinched with slight surprise considering that I had forgotten she was there.
“Tsk, he was so happy! You know how excited he gets before showtime, why did you have to make him so sad?”
I clasped my arms behind my back as a sign of pure guilt. I had only reminded him to put his contacts in. If he would’ve even dared to step on stage with his glasses on, Mr. Aaron would’ve been furious. I was only trying to protect my boyfriend, what was so wrong with that?

“I was only trying to protect him.” I quietly repeated my thoughts.
“Alright, well, by protecting him, you crushed his dreams. Nice one, darling.”
“Ugh, whatever,” I shut down the conversation, “Where’s my microphone?”

Ettie shot me a knowing glance, pointing toward the stack of boxes in the corner. I instantly began to shuffle through each of the small brown cubes, wondering which one held my beloved microphone, before I stumbled upon the box with my name on it. My microphone was my own little keepsake, and I never performed without it. No matter how much I loved it, I wasn’t obsessed with it at all. I was actually willing to let people touch it, as to where Nick would get mad if someone even looked at his DJ table.

The shiny, rose-gold microphone was something that I had bought while I was in college. It had gotten me through one of my biggest school performances, and I had loved it ever since. Ever since I had made it through that college recital, I had vowed to use this microphone and this microphone alone whenever I performed.

“Five minutes - you ready, Mira?” Ettie’s voice reached me from where I stood in the corner.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

My friend quickly ushered me out the door and into the hallway before closing the door to my dressing room.
“Good luck, darling.” My friend gave me a quick side hug before practically pushing me forward.
Feeling all of my nerves melt away with my microphone in hand, I made my way down the hallway and began to smile when I arrived backstage.

"Oh, there she is! Goodness, you arrive so late, my dear! One day I fear that you’ll end up going on stage after the concert actually starts!”

Mr. Aaron’s assistant manager, Carla, was a tall racoon with the warmest brown eyes I had ever seen. She was a sort of mother figure in my career life, and Nick would definitely agree with me. When Mr. Aaron would strike with his bitter tongue, Carla would be right there to build us back up and let us know that everything was alright. She often worried about us, though, and it was amusing to watch her freak out if something happened to Nick or me.
“Sorry, Carla,” I apologized, trying my hardest to calm her down, “Ettie was just giving me some finishing touches.”

The assistant manager’s shoulders relaxed almost immediately as she gingerly cupped my cheek, “Well, she did an excellent job. You look stunning, dear.”
My face glowed with warmth as Carla headed off to deal with some other issue. Instantly afterwards, a force collided with my back and a pair of familiar arms wrapped around me.

“Oh my god, it’s actually showtime! I love showtime!”
A quiet laugh escaped my mouth, “I love showtime, too.”
Nick frowned, “You’re not acting like you love it…”

I rolled my eyes before putting on an impossibly large smile and raising my arms in the air.
“I love showtime!” I screamed, excitement evident in my voice.
My boyfriend’s eyes began to glow, “Really?! Me too!”

“Where’s your DJ table?” I asked, curiously.
“It’s already set up on the stage. One of the staff members touched it… a total stranger touched my precious mixer.”
I shook my head in exasperation, “Awh, I’m sorry. I’m sure it’ll be fine, though.”
Nick pouted, “Whatever.”

“You guys are on in one minute, what are you standing around for?” Carla asked, though her tone was sweet and not commanding.
In a sudden burst of excitement, my boyfriend grabbed my arm and practically dragged me forward. The stage was dark, and large curtains concealed Nick and me from the crowd on the outside. I could hear their cheering, I could hear their love, I could hear their impatience, I knew that they were ready, and I knew that I was ready. Nick bumped his hand against mine, and I responded by gingerly holding on to his fingers.

“You ready?” He asked, voice soft and serious.
I met his reassuring green gaze and tried my hardest to let him know that I was alright and ready with my facial expressions.
“Let’s do this.”
The curtains parted, the cheering picked up, and the show was on.

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“Ugh,” I whispered, “I thought you said we wouldn’t be called in until Monday!”
I slouched in the shotgun seat of the black Jeep and glanced over at Nick.
“You think I wanted to leave the after-party just so that we could give a mission report? They were about to serve the Pocky Sticks and I didn’t get any!”

I nodded, sadly, “I know how much you love Pocky Sticks.”

The concert had gone by just as smoothly as any other show. There had been a short period of time between the show and the after-party, allowing Nick and I to catch our breaths and change out of our performance clothes. However, less than halfway through the party, we had received a call telling us that The Agency needed a mission report. Whenever I thought about that Thursday night - having to hide in a dark, dirty corner, almost being choked to death, and almost losing the microchip bag - I felt sick to my stomach.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Nick muttered as he stopped the car and pulled the keys out.
The Agency was fairly strict on having their members always wear black, but Nick and I were dressed to party, not to stalk. They would have to be a bit understanding, considering that they had called us in last minute.

The layout of the facility was something else that I was used to. I had been with The Agency for six years, after all. There was nothing new, nothing that caught my eye, all I really cared about was getting in and out fast. A familiar voice reached my ears right before I could open one of the glass doors.

“Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean you can show up here wearing circus clothes.”

Daniel.

“These aren’t circus clothes! You clearly have no idea about fashion.” I retorted.
Daniel snorted, flattening his furry gray ears on the top of his head, “What was the special event tonight? Did your adoring fans give you the love that you needed? We all know you need the love of other animals in order to feel confident.”

Nick shot my enemy a glare that was so terrifying, I was shocked that Daniel didn’t melt instantly on the spot.
“And we all know that you need to make others feel worse in order to feel confident. Let’s go, Mira.”
He pushed the glass doors open and headed through with me quickly following behind.

“Calling us in even though you knew we had a concert? That’s a low move, even for you.” Nick commented as the director of The Agency glanced up at us.
“When you pledged your devotion to us and to your country, you put yourselves on our schedules. Do you think I care about the fact that you had a performance? There are dangerous animals out on those streets, and your first priority is your stupid little popstar careers.”

I felt hurt by the director’s words. The career that he called “stupid” was something that I took very seriously. I glanced up over at my boyfriend, noticing that he had said nothing.

“Do you have the microchips?” The director asked, his icy blue gaze staring directly into my soul.
“Er, no. They’re back at home. Maybe, if you would’ve told us that you wanted to come earlier, we would’ve had them for you.” Nick defended, crossing his arms.

Mr. Andrews, the director, was a rather snappy honey badger who stood on the shorter side. It was hard to get on his good side, and even when he was in a better mood, he was still capable of being one of the sourest animals that I knew. He said nothing in reply to what Nick said, and instead, he moved the conversation onto another course.

“Did you kill him?”
“Who?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“The Bargainer.”
My boyfriend rolled his eyes, “What a cheesy name.”
“It’s not like we have anything else to call him,” I responded, quietly.

“Stop ignoring my question! Is the Bargainer dead or not?”
“No, sir,” I shakily answered, avoiding his blue gaze, “He’s still alive. Injured, but alive. I shot him in the eye while we were getting away.”

Mr. Andrews scowled, letting out a low, disappointed growl, “You were supposed to kill him!”
“We were also supposed to keep the microchips safe. The Bargainer almost got away with them. You should be lucky that we managed to get them back!” Nick tried his hardest to not slam his fist on the table.
“Your mission will never truly be over until you make sure that the Bargainer is dead. Bring the microchips here tomorrow morning. You can’t just leave stuff like that lying around in your room.”

“Y-yes, sir, we-we’re sorry.” I murmured, voice trembling.
“You have two weeks to eliminate your target. If it’s not done by then, I won’t hesitate to put you on probation and get a better pair to kill him.”
“Oh yeah? You’ve told us plenty of times before that Mira and I are your best agents. Who could you possibly have up your sleeve that would be a better pair?” Nick challenged.

The director met Nick’s gaze with the same fierce intensity, “Daniel and Abigail.”
I sighed, closing my eyes. Daniel and Abigail were rude, yes, but there was no denying that they were good agents.

“Get the job done, or face the consequences. Now, get out of my office."

end.

A/N - who's your favorite character? you can tell me why, but you dont have to~

I don't have a favorite character yet, but the story is interesting so far.

Nick and his DJ table made me crack up XD

My heart is broken right now, thanks...

But really good story! Maybe put it on Wattpat, in that way more people can read it!

Transient wrote:

I don't have a favorite character yet, but the story is interesting so far.

Nick and his DJ table made me crack up XD

paha, never touch his dj table. thanks for reading!

Moonylight wrote:

My heart is broken right now, thank...

But really good story! Maybe put it on Wattpat, in that way more people can read it!

you are so welcome. i love breaking hearts.

i love wattpad, and i might put this story on there once it's 100% complete and i go back and do some edits. y'know, i'd rather test this story with an audience that i know, first, before pushing it out to strangers on wattpad. that's why i love it when y'all comment!

thank you for reading! <3

yes, people are starting to comment! i'm very proud. good job, children.

chapter three ~
saturday; day one; week one ~
nick’s pov ●

It had taken me exactly three cups of coffee to fully wake myself up. Earlier that morning, I had insisted that Mira stay home while I brought to microchips to The Agency. As long as she got some sleep, I was fine. Mr. Andrew’s words were stuck in my head. Mira and I only had two weeks to eliminate an offender who was quickly rising in power. The Bargainer was one of those criminals that committed crimes behind the scenes, using knowledge and stealth to get their work done, and then getting away with it while keeping themselves anonymous.

I had returned home at eight in the morning, but that had only given me fifteen minutes of sleep considering that rehearsals started at nine. Mira had warned me that it was rather unhealthy to down three cups of coffee, one after the other, but I would’ve probably passed out in the middle of the rehearsal room without them. Even with three cups worth of caffeine, I still felt like I was dying as I tried my hardest to keep up with every dance move (I’ll spare my pride and not mention how many times I tripped and fell).

I wondered if I would be able to get enough rest to be able to function yet another concert, tomorrow. Eventually, the head choreographer got sick of me and my tired state and told everyone to take a break. Instead of taking a nap, which I should’ve done, I found myself stumbling toward the room that held my beloved DJ table.

The walls were green, and the vintage vinyls hung up on it displayed various classic rock artists from Queen to Aerosmith to Billy Joel. The shelves in the room were filled to the brim with boxes of computer chips that held voice samples and sound effects. My acoustic and electric guitars were pushed up against the side of the tallest shelf, out of harm's way. I had beanbag chairs set out randomly in the room, because I knew that I wouldn’t want to stand for hours. The floor was shiny hardwood, and it kept things cleaner than carpeted floors.

Then, in the middle of it all, stood the splendid glory of my beautiful DJ table. Underneath the black object was a laptop, one that held every single track I had ever created. It wasn’t like I only had digital copies. There were physical copies of my tracks stashed up in boxes somewhere, and some of the more famous ones had been turned into vinyls.

When I had told Ettie that this was my legacy, it most certainly had not been a lie. This was how I wanted the world to remember me; by the beautiful music that I put out. That was how I’d go down in history. A smile crossed my features as I blew my DJ table a kiss. If I wasn’t so tired, I probably would’ve tried to remix something, but I found myself collapsing into a beanbag chair before I could think any further.

A strong wave of dark serenity crashed over me, making me fall asleep almost instantly.

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Nick.
I continued to sleep, only hearing my name being called the back corner of my mind.

Nick…
It sounded like I was underwater. Miraculously, I stayed asleep, even as hands gripped my arms and proceeded to violently shake me.

NICK!
I was dragged out of my beanbag chair, landing on the hardwood floor with a slight thud. I sighed in protest as my eyes fluttered open, but the scowl disappeared from my face when I saw Mira standing above me.

“You slept through rehearsals!” She reprimanded, placing a hand on her hip.
I straightened my glasses before putting on a fairly innocent face, “Oops.”
“If you forget a move tomorrow, then all I’m going to do is laugh,” Mira said, offering me a hand.
Once she helped me up, I pulled her into a tight hug that she couldn’t possibly escape and leaned in close to her ear.

“Please don’t tell Mr. Aaron that I slept through rehearsals… he’ll kill me…”
My girlfriend rolled her eyes, “Why would I tell him? He’d kill me if he found out that I didn’t wake you up, so if I told him then I’d be sabotaging myself.”

I let her out of the hug, “Okay. Great. Phew. The last thing I need is Mr. Aaron getting on to me for the smallest of things. We already have plenty of things to worry about, like getting rid of The Bargainer in two weeks. How are we supposed to do that and juggle coming to work every day?”
Mira placed a hand on my shoulder, “We’ll get the job done. I’m not exactly sure, yet, but we’ll get it done.”

I felt the slightest bit reassured.

“Carla was looking for you. She’s way more understanding, so I told her you were sleeping. She promised that she wouldn’t tell Mr. Aaron, though.”
I began to grow anxious again as I headed aimlessly toward my DJ table, “Why was she looking for me?”

Mira clasped her hands awkwardly behind her back, “She wanted you to know that our schedule is going to be really busy for the next two weeks. What a coincidence, am I right?”
A low growl rumbled deep in my throat as I placed a hand on my DJ table, “Did she tell you about anything that we’re doing specifically?”

“A couple concerts, a talk-show interview, and I’m pretty sure she said something about a meet and greet. If we have concerts, then that also means that we have a ton of rehearsals. We’re gonna have to dedicate our nights to finding and killing The Bargainer if our mornings and afternoons will be busy.”
“Awh, but I sleep at night!” I whined, crossing my arms.

Mira shrugged, sympathetically, “If it makes you feel any better, we’re totally free next weekend, so we should probably use that time wisely.”
I sat down on the wooden floor, pulling my legs to my chest and resting my back on the DJ table.
“I guess that’s better. Mira, I really don’t want to be kicked out of The Agency.”
Mira met my scared gaze with a soft expression, “We’re not going to get kicked out.”

“Promise?”
“Promise.”

A quiet giggle escaped my lips, “Yay!”
That was when he walked in. Him. The one that I had grown to dislike over the course of a few months, the manager who was making life so much harder for his own clients.

Mr. Aaron.

“Nick,” His voice was cold and steely, and I tried to hold back a visible shudder, “Your choreographer told me that you didn’t show up to rehearsals, today. What happened?”

I gulped.

“Um, I was helping Carla sort papers. She can vouch for me, if you need evidence.”
Mr. Aaron shook his head in disapproval, “Carla’s job is to sort papers. Your job is to show up to rehearsals so that you don’t forget what your doing on stage. You haven’t been making wise decisions lately, and this is why I make all your decisions for you. Your job is easy; show up to work on time and do what you’re told. My job is to make sure that two incredibly spoiled twenty-three-year-olds get opportunities to become more and more famous, but if you’re not going to take what I do for you seriously then I might have to stop providing you two with so many chances to grow. So, I’m warning both of you, now… don’t disappoint me, again.”

With that, he turned out of the doorway and headed down the hallway like he owned the place. He didn’t own the place, Mira and I did. This entire practice facility used to be an old, rundown building that Mira and I fixed up and renovated. We had spent years earning our own money just so that we could buy the building, so the fact that Mr. Aaron treated this place like it was his irritated me.

Perhaps I’ll keep disappointing him, just for the fun of it.

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“Ugh, it’s like they planned for the next two weeks to be the busiest.” I groaned, staring at the paper in my hands.

Every single day, except next Saturday and Sunday, was completely booked. Not a day was empty. Monday through Tuesday consisted of non-stop rehearsals. Wednesday was one of those late-night talk shows. Thursday was even more rehearsals. Friday was a fan meet and greet. The weekend had nothing, as mentioned before. Plus, that was only the first week. I had no idea what the second week would bring, but all I knew was that it would be busy. This couldn’t possibly get any worse. Carla, from where she sat in her large, spinning chair looked up at me with sympathy in her warm brown eyes.

“I know it looks like a lot, dear, but it’ll be over before you know it.”
I continued to stare at the schedule in my hands, “Mm… whatever.”
“Would you feel better if I told you that I bought you some Pocky Sticks?”
My eyes began to glow as a large, excited grin grew on my face, “Yes!”

When Carla tossed me the red box of Pocky Sticks, I caught it with ease and continued to smile.
“Eee!” I exclaimed, opening the familiar package with glee.
I heard Mira laugh from where she stood in the doorway, “Great, Carla, now he’s going to be hyper all day.”

“I think he deserves it!” The assistant manager argued, “When you two left the after-party yesterday, I felt bad knowing that he missed the Pocky Sticks. You know how much he loves them, after all.”
I shot my girlfriend a wide-eyed glance of innocence, nodding to show my agreement.

“Mr. Aaron isn’t going to like the fact that you’re eating those in here,” Mira muttered.
“Ah, Mr. Aaron can speak with me if he has a problem with Nick eating the Pocky Sticks,” Carla spoke in my defence.

Gosh, I loved Carla.

“Can I at least have one?” Mira asked, pleadingly.
I tried to scowl despite the fact that I was chewing five Pocky Sticks at once and shook my head, hugging the red box close to myself.
She rolled her eyes, “I knew there was no point in asking.”

After happily waving Carla goodbye, I made my way out of her office with Mira following closely behind.

“So,” I began, speaking as I chewed on one half of a cookie biscuit, “I suppose we should do some scouting, tonight. We have no idea where The Bargainer stays, but I’m guessing it was somewhere near that warehouse that we hid in on Thursday night.”
Mira nodded, “I’m down for that. Let’s just make sure that we don’t get into any fights.”
“Eh, I can’t make any promises.”
“Nick, please don’t start anything. We have another concert tomorrow night and it’ll be hard to explain any fresh cuts or bruises that we’ll show up with.”

I crossed my arms, pouting, “‘Kay, I guess you’re right.”
My girlfriend smiled, “I usually am.”

The majority of the rest of the day included rehearsals, me stuffing my face with Pocky Sticks, and Mira reminding me repeatedly to stop talking while I was eating. Towards the end of the day, when everyone was packing up and getting ready to head home, I made my way toward the room that held my DJ table. I couldn’t just leave without kissing it goodbye. The poor thing would probably think that I had abandoned it. I happily strolled down the hallway, humming a random Michael Jackson song as I pushed open the door to the room.

“Goodbye, my precious-”
I dropped my Pocky Sticks all over the hardwood floor and my eyes opened wider than they had ever opened before. At first, I thought my glasses were just acting stupid, so I took them off, cleaned them on my shirt, and put them back on.

Nothing changed.

I charged out of the room, making a rather loud and disturbing ruckus as I raced down the hallway and began to call for my girlfriend.
Carla curiously poked her head out of her office, staring at me with confusion in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, dear?!” She asked, trying her hardest to calm me down.
I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even breathe properly. Fear was closing my lungs and vocal chords, and my vision was starting to blur as tears stung my eyes.

“Nick!” Mira shouted, running down the opposite end of the hallway, “I heard you calling, what happened?!”
I felt like I was dying.

Tears spilt down my cheeks and into my palms as I buried my face in my hands and began to sob uncontrollably.
“Wait, what’s happening? Nick, please tell me what’s going on!” My girlfriend shook me by the shoulders.

Carla lifted my head up so she could see my face, and in a very motherly way, she took my glasses off of my face began to clear the tears away from my cheeks.
“Sweetheart, what happened?”
I tried to speak through my sobs, but my voice still came out in short bursts of forced exhales.

“M-my… my D-DJ t-ta-table is go-gone!”

A/N - awh, poor nick. what do you think happened to his precious DJ table??

chapter four ~
saturday; day one; week one ~
nick’s pov ●

“What?!” Mira sounded just as shocked as I was upset.
“Didn’t you hear me the first time?” I growled, “My DJ table is gone!”

Dark thoughts began to fill my head, thoughts about what I’d do to whoever had the nerve and the audacity to steal my DJ table let alone touch it. If I had once fired an employee for dripping coffee on it, I could only imagine what kind of treatment this offender would receive.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” Carla pulled me into a tight hug, and despite how I was feeling, I wrapped my arms around her and accepted it.
“I forgot to lock the door,” I sniffled, trying my hardest to not bury my face into Carla’s shirt and sob again, “This is all my fault! My DJ table is probably so mad at me!”

The assistant manager shot me a glance, “No, dear, it’s not your fault, I promise. It’s the fault of that filthy animal who decided that it’d be good to take something that you loved.”
Not being able to hold it back anymore, I began to cry into Carla’s shirt, feeling the slightest bit better when she ran her hand over my head.

“I-I’m sorry that this happened, Nick,” Mira murmured, “Do you need me to let Mr. Aaron know?”
“No,” I whimpered, keeping my face buried in Carla’s shirt, “Please, anyone but Mr. Aaron.”

The next thing I knew was another pair of arms wrapping around me.
“What happened to the darling angel?” A familiar high-pitched voice asked, looking at Mira and Carla for answers.

“Someone stole his DJ table.” My girlfriend explained.
“Do you need me to beat somebody up, darling?” Ettie asked me.

I forced out a quiet ‘mhm’.

“Well, the moment that we find this horrible perpetrator, I’ll kill them!” My friend announced, continuing to hug me.
“What is with all the noise?” Another familiar yet unwanted voice asked, "You all should’ve left! Rehearsals are over.”
“Sorry, sir, but we’re having a bit of trouble over here,” Mira muttered, trying her hardest to sound respectful.

“What could possibly be wrong?” Mr. Aaron asked, sounding upset.
“Nick’s DJ table is gone, that’s what’s wrong,” Carla spoke up, “Please don’t upset him even more, James, he’s clearly hurting.”

Mr. Aaron shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with disgust, “It’s just a table, a mere noisemaker. So what if it’s missing? We’ll get you a new one.”
From where Ettie was hugging me, I heard her whisper a quick ‘ugh’ that was apparently inaudible to the manager.

“B-but,” I began, tears streaming down my face, “I-I don’t w-want a ne-new one…”
The manager still looked cross, “There’s a lot of things in life we don’t want. Here’s another perfect example of why you’re incredibly spoiled! If we don’t find this dumb DJ table of yours, you’ll have to live with a new one.”

I felt anger growing within me, a large, white-hot flame of fury that was threatening to grow larger and burn Mr. Aaron until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Now, the tears that escaped my eyes were tears of anger as I broke out of Ettie and Carla’s hug, marching toward Mr. Aaron with rage glittering in my bright green eyes.

“You idiot!” I shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the manager, “My DJ table is not dumb! You, Mr. Aaron, are the only dumb one here. You will make sure that I get my DJ table back, the one that I lost, the only one that I love, the only one that I want, or I’m going to do something to you that I most definitely will not regret.”

The calm look on Mr. Aaron’s face made me angrier than I already was.

Then he uttered words that I hadn’t heard for a long time, words that I had been so used to hearing years ago, words that seemed to stab my heart over and over again.

“You think I’m the dumb one?” The manager asked, raising a smug eyebrow, “I’m not the one here who’s autistic.”

Chaos broke out.

Carla was yelling at Mr. Aaron, Mira was trying her hardest to hold Ettie from attacking the manager, and Ettie was screaming some terrible words that I wouldn’t dare repeat.

‘I’m not the one here who’s autistic.’

I couldn’t find any more words to fling back at Mr. Aaron, because what he was saying was true.

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flashback. (trigger warning - bullying, fist violence, blood)

The halls were completely empty.

No other animals roamed the floors, except for me. I was the one lonely soul who wandered down the tiled hallways of Riverside Middle School. I could hear the endless laughter of disobedient students coming from inside classrooms, I heard excessively loud gossiping coming from the girls’ bathroom as I passed, I could hear teachers reprimanding students, and I could hear lessons being taught. It was a true shame that I wasn’t apart of that, now. Instead, I was stuck with a hall pass, forced out of class by my math teacher who had been so convinced that I had been acting out of line. I hadn’t been doing anything.

As usual, the boys that sat near me in class had pulled off some elaborate scheme to get me in trouble. Mira had tried to speak out in my behalf, but she had almost gotten in trouble herself. It wasn’t like this was the first time, though. This always happened, time and time again. In fact, it was starting to become some morbid routine. I found myself standing near the ever-famous trophy case that the entire school practically hailed and respected. Behind the long rectangle of glass were dozens and dozens of trophies rightfully earned by Riverside’s sports teams.

Everyone who played on a team automatically seemed to fit in. Everyone knew their names, everyone respected them, everyone wanted to be them. Did I want to be them, too? No. So, I supposed ‘everyone but me’ was the more fitting usage in this situation. Unlike the majority of boys in my school, I wasn’t interested in sports. Every now and then, I’d watch football games on television, or I’d read up on recent basketball games so that I knew what was going on. I’d often watch Riverside’s teams play. However, I never wanted to actually engage in a sport myself.

Instead, I was interested in something that I saw to be far more beautiful, far more interesting, far more captivating. It was a way to express myself, a way to let all of my inner frustrations drift away with the rhythm.

It was music… my most favorite thing in the world.

At this school, music was seen as something that only girls did. So, Mira was never bullied for loving music. The boys thought it was cute and appropriate for her gender. However, they’d look at me and see me as strange. Everyone expected me to be out on the football field, scoring a touchdown for Riverside while the crowds cheered. I wanted the crowd to be cheering for me in a different way. I wanted to be on a stage, having the time of my life making music, and the rows and rows of animals below would clap and scream, and I would feel loved and satisfied.

I looked away from the trophies, staring at my own reflection in the glass. After instinctively pushing my glasses up my nose, I couldn’t help but frown. All I saw in my reflection, now, was a freak, a misfit, a loser. That was what everyone called me, after all. No matter what I did, everyone always found some sort of way to tease me.

“Oh my god, is autism contagious? Get away from me, you freak!” A girl had once asked me.

“Geez, he’s so short. What a wimp.” A boy had told his friend, making sure that I had been in earshot.

“Too scared to be out on the sports field, Nick?” Another boy had asked, after shouldering me in the ribs.

“Why don’t you leave singing to the girls? Goodness, guys are always trying to steal everything from us.” A girl had accused, and her airheaded friend had only agreed.

My vision began to blur as tears stung my eyes.

“You can do whatever you want, Nick. You can try and think that our insults don’t matter… but in the end, I’m not the one here who’s autistic.” One of them had said.

And the saddest thing was, that one was right. I was the only misfit in the entire school who was cursed with autism. The fact that I was reminded of it every day didn’t help, at all.

“Urgh,” A voice dragged me violently out of my thoughts, “What’s he doing?”
A cackle rang out through the hallway, “Staring at the trophy case, wishing he was cool.”
“Wasn’t he supposed to go to the principal’s office?” Another voice asked.
The final voice muttered some words, “I bet his autism is kicking in again.”

Autism can’t ‘kick in’, you ignorant fools, I thought, frowning.

I turned, only to see four familiar faces giving me sadistic smiles.

Carter - the tallest one, the speaker of the infamous ‘I’m not the one here who’s autistic’ quote.
Donald - constantly saying untrue stuff about autism, an example being ‘his autism is kicking in’.
Ford - the captain of the football team, the one who loved to tap my glasses to confuse me.
Steven - quite possibly the dumbest one of the bunch, agrees with whatever the other three say.

“Maybe, if he won’t go to the principal’s office to receive a punishment, we’ll have to give him one ourselves,” Ford suggested, tapping the bridge of my glasses in a taunting manner.

Steven said nothing, but he did nod in agreement.

“Not in the middle of the hallway, boys,” Carter spoke up.
Almost as if they had planned this, Donald and Steven grabbed each of my arms and hauled me forcefully towards the boys’ bathroom. The sight was something that I was all too familiar with.

Every single time, they would drag me into this room, throw me on the tiled floors, and laugh for a couple of seconds at their little plot before getting to work. Steven and Donald were the ones that held me by my arms up against the wall, and Carter and Ford were the ones that delivered the punches.

I couldn’t let them know that I was hurting.

I couldn’t let them know that I was in pain.

I couldn’t let them know that what they were doing affected me deeply.

Every single time I would tell myself to hold back my tears, to keep a straight face, and to stay completely silent. Every single time, I would fail miserably. Ford practically tore my glasses off of my face as Carter began to punch me repeatedly. With every single blow that I received, my face started to heat up even more with both pain and anger. Donald and Steven’s wicked laughter flooded my ears from where they stood on either side of me. Carter kept punching, Ford kept fiddling around with my glasses.

“How pathetic!” The tall one shouted in my face, giving me a rather hard slap on the cheek, “You can’t even defend yourself! Show me what you’ve got, you autistic idiot!”
Carter brought his fist to my jaw, and I let out a low, quiet sound of pain. That seemed to satisfy him.
“I said show me what you’ve got! Or are you just so incredibly weak?” The bully taunted, punching me directly in the stomach.

Ford shoved my glasses in my face, daring me to stare at them as he held my only source of clear sight captive, “Wow, these are ugly. I mean, nothing in this world will make you look nice, but you should at least try to not look so nerdy!”
Carter didn’t say anything, he just continued to punch me in the stomach like it was a normal occurrence, which it was.

“I’ll do you a favor and help you out by getting rid of these nasty things.” Ford’s voice was sweet, but it was so sweet that it made me feel absolutely sick.

I only realized what he was about to do when it actually happened.

With a snap, he broke my black glasses in half, right at the bridge. Laughter escaped his lips as he proceeded to poke the lenses out and snap the halves into smaller pieces.

“N-no-” I croaked, but I was interrupted.
“Oh, shut up, Nick,” Donald said in a sing-song voice, “If you’re so upset with Ford for breaking your glasses, why don’t you do something about it?”

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut as tears began to escape.

“Awh, look at him. He’s crying like the girl he is!” Carter taunted.
Steven could only echo what the tall one said, “Yeah! He’s crying like a little girl!”
Another punch from Carter.
A bloody nose.
Another blow from the tallest one.
More pain in my stomach.

As I got hit in the face and gut a couple more times, I felt myself beginning to cough, but crimson liquid splattered to the ground. I felt squeamish at the sight of blood even though I kept coughing it up.

“Hmph, I think that’s enough. Ford, be a good boy and give the autistic wimp his glasses back.”
After Donald and Steven dropped me to the ground, Ford placed the broken pieces of my spectacles directly in my lap.

“Good luck seeing in the next class!” Ford commented, grinning.
“Yeah, good luck seeing in the next class!” Steven repeated, stupidly.
“The stupid thing can’t even fight back.” Donald commented, rolling his eyes.

Carter was the last one to leave, and he glanced over his shoulder at me, complete hatred glowing in his eyes, “Suck it up and dry your tears, Nick. You might as well get used to it, now. You’re stuck with us for two more years, and I bet high school will only be worse for you. Learn this lesson, now - autistic animals don’t get very far in this society.”

Endless sobs wracked my body as I pulled my legs to my chest. With the absence of my glasses and the blurry sensation that the tears gave my eyes, I could barely see the outline of my jeans in front of me. I didn’t even try to stop the bloody nose that was still occurring. The blood that I had coughed up stained the tiled ground, and I knew that I’d be blamed for it despite the fact that it hadn’t been my fault.

That was when I heard someone from the other side of the door.

“Nick?”

It seemed to be the voice of an angel, and I felt the smallest bit of hope just by hearing her familiar voice.
“Are you in here?” The angel asked.
“Y-yes.” I weakly responded, hoping that she had heard.
“Um, I can’t believe I’m about to do this.”

What was she about to do?

I flinched a bit as the door to the boys’ bathroom opened and the angel walked in, looking rather confused and flustered.

I put on a sad smile.

Out of everything horrible that always happened to me… out of all the teasing, out of all the insults and taunts, there was a crystal blue light in the middle of the darkness. There was always a hand to help me up when I fell, there was always a reassuring voice in my ear as students yelled curses at me. No matter what, the wings of an angel were always there to wrap around me when I felt down.

“H-hi, Mi-Mira.” I whispered.

My best friend blinked in shock, racing over to me and engulfing me in a hug, “Oh my god, what happened?”
“The usual.” I murmured, trying to blink away more tears.
“Nick, you need to tell someone about this.” Mira insisted, wiping the tears off of my face with her thumb.

Then, her pretty eyes fell to the broken pieces in my lap.

“What happened to your glasses?!”
“Ford broke them,” I explained, weakly.

I could see the anger in her eyes, but she instantly replaced it with a soft look in attempts to assure me that everything would be alright.

“You won’t be able to see anything for the rest of the day.” She realized, sighing.
I nodded, silently.

“Even though I don’t agree, I know that you don’t want any of the staff to know about the bullying. We’ll tell Mrs. Sanchez that you stepped on them or something. Hopefully, she’ll send you home early.” My best friend continued to hug me.

I frowned, staring at her blurry form, “Wh-what about you?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you after school. You’re more important right now, and you need to go to the nurse to get rid of that bloody nose, and then you need to go home and get your spare pair of glasses.”

I shakily agreed, “Ri-right.”
Mira buried her face into my shoulder, “I’m so sorry that they did this to you.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I-I know, but…” She broke off, not knowing what else to say.

There we sat in pure silence. It was the most comforting ten minutes of my life. My heart seemed to heal so quickly as I glanced down at the girl who cared so much about my wellbeing. She deserved more than me - she deserved a strong, athletic, tall prince who could sweep her off her feet and carry her away to some utopian paradise. Instead, she was stuck with me, an autistic dork who constantly got bullied. It wasn’t Mira’s job to worry about me and my problems, but she did, anyway. She was the most supportive animal that I knew, and I would be grateful for that for the rest of my life.
However, those dark words still echoed in the back of my mind, causing a sharp pang of sadness to strike me right where it hurt the most.

“You can do whatever you want, Nick. You can try and think that our insults don’t matter… but in the end, I’m not the one here who’s autistic...”

A/N - nick has autism! what do you think about that?

Love it!!! I have autism to, and it isn't mentioned in many books! So you're doing something creative and AWESOME! And good job with writing this btw!

Moonylight wrote:

Love it!!! I have autism to, and it isn't mentioned in many books! So you're doing something creative and AWESOME! And good job with writing this btw!

i'm glad you like it! you're right, i haven't read any books that even mention autism, so i tried to incorporate it into here for a bit of "representation".

i haven't forgotten about this, i suppose. i've just been super lazy when it comes to writing these chapters. then, there's also the horror of writer's block.

ill update this soon.

im not dead omg

chapter five~
sunday; day two; week one ~
mira’s pov ●

The Staples Center was there to greet me again, and the same routine went down. However, this time, I wasn’t mesmerized by the shiny material of my dress, I wasn’t ecstatic when I slipped my jacket on, and even when Ettie complimented me, all I did was give her a lifeless thumbs up in return. I couldn’t be happy, not now. I was upset with Mr. Aaron for all that he had done, yesterday.

After the autism incident, Carla had proceeded to talk with Mr. Aaron rather sternly, and Ettie had asked Nick if he was okay before heading home. That night, in our rather spacious condo, Nick had been unable to sleep, troubled by what he had heard that evening. I had let him sit on my bed, cry into my shirt, and then fall asleep with his head resting gingerly on my lap. I hadn’t slept very comfortably, but I knew it was all worth it.

Nick had been hurting - he currently was hurting, and I had to move my own self-comfort aside to make sure that he was alright. Even if he had managed to get past what Mr. Aaron had said about him, his DJ table still hadn’t been found. He had never done a concert without it, and I was starting to wonder how my boyfriend would be able to cope without the thing that he loved so dearly.

“I know you’re worried,” Ettie said from where she stood behind me, “Maybe you should go check on him.”
I checked myself in the mirror, straightening my jacket and grabbing my microphone from the counter.
“I think I’ll go do that.” I murmured, quietly, and dismissed myself from my own dressing room.

The walk down the hallway wasn’t very long, but it felt like ages as I took step after step toward Nick’s dressing room.

“You’ll do amazing, sweetheart,” I heard Carla’s soft, supportive voice coming from inside the room, “Your talent comes from within you. Your DJ table is just a side effect. Try to be strong, okay?”
“B-but… my DJ table is my best friend!” Nick’s voice was choked and forced.
“And I’m sure it’ll be very proud to know that you did a good job on stage, even though it wasn’t there.”

There was silence for a couple of seconds before my boyfriend spoke.

“Okay.”
“So, you’ll go out there and do your very best?” Carla asked, keeping her voice soothing and level.
“Yes.”
“Good!” I could imagine the assistant manager pulling Nick into a hug, “I can’t wait to watch.”

“You’re welcome, Carla.”

I inhaled a silent breath, hoping that the kind assistant manager would correct my boyfriend. His autism often made him switch up ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re welcome’, so I usually had to speak for him when it came to those two words.

“Sweetheart, you did it again,” Carla told him, gently.
I silently poked my head into the dressing room, making sure that I wouldn’t be seen. Nick was staring up at Carla with a confused look on his face while the assistant manager looked kind and calm as always.

“What did I do again?” He asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.
“You mixed up your words… you said ‘you’re welcome’.”

Nick began to fiddle with his fingers behind his back, which was something he did when he was embarrassed, “O-oh… sorry.”

In a motherly fashion, Carla gave Nick a kiss on the top of his head before leaving the room. In order to avoid being seen, I pressed myself against the wall and watched as the assistant manager headed the other way.
When I looked in, again, Nick was staring blankly at himself in the mirror.

“Mira,” He began, and I stiffened once I realized that he knew I was there, “What do you even see in me?”
I blinked, startled by his question, “Wh-what do you mean?”

The red fox proceeded to remove his glasses before popping open the case that contained his contacts. He refused to turn around and look me in the eye, but he continued to speak, “Why do you love me? There are probably so many incredible, perfect guys out there. Out of all of them, you chose me.”

I quietly approached him, but I didn’t reach out and touch his shoulder despite the fact that it was so close, “I see a brilliant, talented, handsome, adorable gentleman who’s always been there for me through rainstorms and sunshine. Who cares if you have autism? You’re still the greatest best friend and the greatest boyfriend anyone could ever ask for.”

Nick sighed, and I watched his ears flatten against his head as he examined himself in the mirror. He didn’t look the same without glasses. Those huge, bright green eyes of his seemed to grow smaller and duller whenever his glasses were replaced with his contacts. It was almost as if he was missing a piece of himself, the him that I knew.

“I-I’m sorry, I dunno why I’ve been having so many breakdowns ever since my DJ table went missing. I-It’s ju-just a hunk of me-metal, r-right?” Nick choked out the final sentence with difficulty as a sad smile grew on his face.

“No,” I answered, firmly, “Your DJ table is just another thing that makes you who you are. Without it, you don’t feel right, but that’s understandable. I just… I just hope we find it, soon.”
My boyfriend squeezed his eyes shut, “N-no! Soon will be too late! We have to find it now, before the concert starts. I’ve never done a show without it… I-I promised Carla that I’d do well, but I’m scared!”

I hugged him from behind, practically feeling the sadness pouring out of him in strong, harsh waves, “I’ll be there with you the whole time. You got this, okay? Do it for your DJ table… it wouldn’t want you to give up, right?”
He shrugged, shaking his head, “I-I guess.”

A head poked into the dressing room. It was Ettie, wearing a look of reluctance on her face as she broke up the moment between us, “You guys are on in five.”
Nick heaved a heavy sigh, and I felt his chest rise and fall from where my arms were wrapped around him.

“I love showtime…” He whispered sadly.

My heart instantly broke.

“C’mon, you’re gonna do great.”

Per usual, Carla fussed over us getting backstage so late, but she ended up complimenting us on our looks afterwards. She gave Nick another one of those hugs that possessed a strong motherly vibe. She ushered us onto stage despite my concern for my boyfriend and his concern for himself.
There was no turning back now. We had to give this audience the show that they deserved. Nick grabbed my hand, interlocked our fingers, and squeezed so tightly, I was afraid my entire arm would fall right off.

“Oh god, oh god…” He whispered, shutting his eyes.
“It’s gonna be okay. Just focus on the music.” I tried so hard to reassure him.

My attempts were all in vain.

“Bu-but, I’m the one who makes the music! That’s my job!”
I sighed, realizing that what I had said had been a mistake.

“I… I can’t do this.” My boyfriend finished, hopelessly, before turning and fleeing from the stage.

Panic went through me from head to toe. What was I supposed to do, now? If the fans wouldn’t have noticed the absence of Nick’s DJ table, they certainly would end up noticing the absence of Nick himself!

There was no time for me to escape the stage. The dark curtain was rising, and the fans were coming into view. Now, many performers were hardcore when it came to the term ‘the show must go on’, but I couldn’t go on without Nick by my side. We were a duo for a reason. I had to give the audience an explanation, but I had no clue if they’d understand.

If I had thought giving speeches and presentations in high school classes had been unbearable, then how I felt now was unimaginable.

When the curtain was up and I was fully exposed, I stood there for a few moments - a few, painfully slow moments. I took silent steps forwards, feeling the eyes of the crowd on me as I headed towards the edge of the stage. Then, all I could do was scan the wave of eager fans, desperately wanting a show.

“Hi, guys,”I began, slowly, and the audience responded with their own words of greeting.
“I know that everyone here was expecting a show tonight, but unfortunately, that show will not be happening.”

Instead of jeers and disgusting words, all I heard was shock and confusion as it passed through the crowd.

“My partner, Nick, is suffering through a bit of anxiety right now. As you can see- well, can’t see- his DJ table has gone missing. Nobody knows who took it or where it has gone, but you all know just as well as I do that he loves that thing very, very much. I know that he wanted to be here tonight to perform for you guys, but… just because he’s a celebrity doesn’t mean he’s perfect. He gets scared, just like me, and just like you, and he wasn’t going to force himself to come out here. I think he made the right choice. He wanted to give you guys a show that he poured his heart and soul into. He wanted to make sure that what you guys received was a genuine gift from him. He wanted-”

“-I wanted you guys to see a show where I was trying my best.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see Nick standing near the back of the stage, shaking, eyes wide, fearful.

“If I even tried to perform tonight… I’d fail, I know I would, and I want y’all to experience a show where Mira and I are at the top of our games. I-I can’t be at the top of my game, now, but once I find my DJ table, I’ll be back, I promise. So… everyone here tonight will get a show, soon, for free, because y’all deserve it. “

Mr. Aaron will be outraged… I thought, frowning.

“Thanks for being so understanding, guys.” I smiled, heading towards the back of the stage so that I could leave.
My boyfriend gave the audience a quick, silent salute with two fingers before both of us disappeared backstage.

“You're the best, Mira.” Nick whispered, managing to put on a slight smile.

I lifted my eyes from the ground, staring into those lovely, bright irises of his - a perfect sea of green, haunted by clouds of anxiety with a small sun of hope poking through.
“You could’ve gone on without me… but you didn’t. The crowd could’ve been furious, but you still shut down the show,” Nick inhaled, quietly, almost as if not believing that anyone would ever do something so kind for him, “And you did it for me…”

I felt a familiar stinging sensation as my eyes grew wet with tears. I would do anything for him, the young man that I had come to love dearly, and I would always do anything to make sure that he was alright.

My heart knew that he would do the exact same for me, and no words needed to be shared, because it felt incredible to know that someone cared about you without them saying it aloud.

“O-of course, Nick. I’d do anything for y-”

A warm hand grabbed mine, and I was pulled forward, across the room, through the doorway, down the hallway, and into the dressing room that belonged to him. The door was closed.
The lock was twisted.

And I was left standing against the wall.

“What are you doing?” I asked as Nick stepped away from the door and moved toward me.
“I know we're supposed to hide this…” He muttered, standing so close that I could count each of his long eyelashes, “But, I still need to kiss you.”
I blinked, warmth flooding my entire face.

“We don’t kiss a lot,” I commented.

However, I wanted it. I wanted to kiss my own boyfriend. The only reason why we barely ever had the chance to act like a couple was that we were too busy trying to hide the fact that we were together. The little moments, whether it be his hand brushing against mine before a show, the small, loving looks that we shot each other during rehearsals, or the compliments that we’d give each other after every performance, were the moments that meant everything to me.

But a kiss… something so nonchalant yet so powerful, something so beautiful yet so scary, was a whole new level of everything.

His voice lowered as he pressed his forehead against mine, “Do I have your consent?”
“Always,” I responded in a voice as quiet as a whisper.

Then, his warm seemed to pour over me like a waterfall as the space between us was eliminated.
As our lips molded together, perfectly, and moved in sync, I felt my heart grow lighter, as if it could fly away at any moment. The ground beneath us seemed to be replaced with clouds. The sky replaced the ceiling, and the sun shone through the white clouds and set a dazzling spotlight on us, and the reality of the world was no more.

We were free, free to love each other, free to be who we were.

We were no longer chained to responsibility, and the issues of our little world were dumped on the shoulders of others, no longer on ours. We could turn our backs and face away from the current, and no matter how many times the waves tried to pull us down and drag us in, we could withstand it.

This was euphoria.

However, that euphoria didn’t drag on for as long as I wanted it to. It stopped so abruptly, so quickly, that I felt as if nothing had been achieved. I heard a gasp of shock coming from the door. Carla held a keyring in her hand which contained every key to every room in the backstage hallway.
Nick and I met her surprised gaze with wide eyes of our own. We quickly scrambled to move away from each other. I backed myself into a corner while my boyfriend stood against the wall on the other side.

“I- u-um, hey, Carla!” Nick stumbled over his words, a fake smile spreading on his face.
I said nothing, but I simply gave the assistant manager a quick nod, clasping my hands behind my back.

“Oh, don’t pretend like I didn't see you two kissing against the wall. I’m not blind.” Carla said, crossing her arms

Nick and I both let out sighs of defeat.

“You two are together?” She questioned us, lifting an eyebrow, “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

My boyfriend was the first to speak, “We’ve been together for months, Carla, but Mr. Aaron banned us from letting anyone know that we were a couple. He thinks it’ll draw in more fans if the public believes that we’re single. The only animal who knew about this besides us and Mr. Aaron is Ettie.”

I couldn’t meet Carla’s gaze, “We’re sorry for keeping you in the dark about this…”
The older woman shook her head, putting on a winning grin as she pulled me into a crushing hug. Nick, not wanting to be left out, slipped between Carla’s arms and joined the embrace, letting a satisfied smile take over his handsome features.

“No need to apologize, my dears. This is wonderful. Y’know, deep down I always knew that there was a certain spark between you two. I’ll talk to Mr. Aaron about this and the cancellation of the concert and see if he’ll lighten up a bit. You both know he won’t take the news of this show very lightly.”

“Darn, you’re right, I completely forgot about Mr. Aaron!” Nick exclaimed, frowning.
“We always do,” Carla chuckled, before letting us out of the hug, “Leave it to me. I’ll try to work some magic.”
“Thank you, Carla.” I said, sincerely, and Nick nodded in silent agreement.

Our secret was out to one more animal, but no matter how many others found out about our relationship secret, no one could ever find out about The Agency.

The safety of the entire country was at stake...

A/N - what do you think of the relationship that mira and nick have?