Chapter I

I guess you could describe me in different ways, but if you wanted to describe me in one word, you'd find it more than just challenging. Waiting by Yang's motorbike now while she finishes her hours at the diner in town, I try to keep myself occupied. I watch the neighbourhood kids run across the road, dodging cars but only just, and now they laugh at the faces of people passing by and laugh at the probability of death. Yang and I used to do stuff like that too. Nearly everyone in this run down town of ours did. I glance at the diner's clock and see that it's six-thirty already. I've been out here for an hour in this blazing heat, and Yang's inside with air-conditioning and drinks as cold as the Antarctic. But at the same time she deals with her group of creeps that come for more than a burger milkshake combo.

I breathe out a sigh, sweating like crazy even though I'm wearing a normal white shirt and black jeans with black sneakers and my bright red hooded jacket. I literally have nothing else to do. I turn my head to see some weirdoes staring at me from across the road outside the town's bar as if I was a lamb ready to be slaughtered and served to them as a feast. I put my hands in my jacket pockets, and I hold my knife in my left pocket, and my gun in my right as I try my best to scowl. The knife is silver with a black and red handle, small and sharp enough to slice a grown man in half which belonged to my mother. The gun is an average size, with a comfortable grip and scarlet red and silver which used to be my father's trusty gun. If I could scowl properly, I think I'd look mildly terrifying. But I catch my scowling expression in the reflection of the motorbike's windshield. I look more like I was pouting instead of glaring at them. I frown and glance up to see them heading back into the bar, and I find myself sighing in relief, stomach unknotting itself even though I didn't know it was knotted in the first place.

But now a white car pulls up in front of the bar, with pale blue handles and matching fold-in roof, the tyres black and beautifully polished. Actually, the entire car is polished up, and most definitely too clean to be a local car. The windows and windshield are tinted black. Someone steps out of the car, slowly and with poise and elegance. My heart starts to race. The person is a girl that looks as if she belongs in a storybook. Her skin is pale like Heaven's clouds, and her hair looks as though it was sculpted from fresh snow in a side ponytail. She's wearing a simple white dress with frills that reach her knees and silver heels and a dark blue handbag. She has a jacket on as well, reaching her hips and buttoned up, white with gold buttons and blood red trimming.

She walks with her head held high, bag held in her grip tightly and surprisingly not sweating. She walks towards the doors of the salon with swaying hips. But she stops when she stands right in front of the door. She turns her head to me slowly. Her eyes are sharp and made of ice with a dash of summer blue, slightly narrowed at me. I freeze but stare back at her. She smirks at me. My face flushes red. But now she shakes her head at me, the smirk still on her face as she pushes the door open and slamming it behind her. And for some reason, my heart won't stop racing.

"Hey there, sweet lil' sister of mine!" Yang laughs, wrapping her arms around my waist as she spins me around. I yell out in shock as Yang laughs loudly at my trauma. When she sets me down I glare at her darkly.

"What the hell was that for?" I grumble, rubbing my waist gingerly as it starts to throb in pain. Yang rolls her eyes at me, bright and violet, contrasting with her wild blonde hair that's tied back in a high ponytail, her pale pink diner dress ruffled and her apron covered in food. She ruffles my hair playfully, a wide grin on her face as she taps her breast pocket.

"Well, thanks to my gorgeous charm and humour, I was able to earn like fifty dollars in tips today, so we're going out to eat tonight!" Yang replies, excited as she puffs her chest out with pride.

"What about the broken alarm on the front door?" I ask.

"Eh, I'll sort it out next week when I get paid. Come on, Ruby," Yang pouts, puppy eyes and all, "we need to treat ourselves for once." I sigh heavily, shaking my head as my line of sight focuses on the white car. But now I see the girl climb in, a dull expression on her face as she closes the door behind her.

"Well, what do you say?" Yang asks, waving her hand in my face. I blink in shock as I watch the girl drive away with screeching tired, speeding down the lane before sharply turning the corner.

"Ruby?" Yang asks impatiently, snapping her fingers. I look at her, as she looks at me with hopeful eyes. I could tell from her slightly drooping shoulders and her faint bags under her eyes that she worked hard to get her tips. I sigh heavily again.

"Fine, fine. I guess we can go out tonight." I reply uncertainly. Yang's eyes widen at me as she squeals, hugging me tightly whilst jumping up and down with me in her arms. I don't even bother to stop her.

I wipe the blood from my blade carefully, car pulled up outside the town's most sophisticated restaurant named "Valessence," a name stupid enough to not be taken seriously. Tonight's the night. I glance at my mother's pocket watch, silver trimmed with diamonds from my no good father's mining company. It's nearly eight o'clock, the sky blessed by twilight but with street lights still lit. I look through my window to see Torchwick, a man who goes by the alias Sweet Tooth, with his ginger fringe over his eye leaving a single bright green eye visible with a small white hat on his head at a slant. He's dressed all in white with a red tie and his black cane that doubles as a shotgun, swinging it in the crook of his elbow slightly as he strolls down the street and towards the restaurant, two men dressed in black on both sides. They walk up to the entrance and the men open both doors for him like the idiots they are. I can't help but be envious.

I lean back in my seat and sigh, smoothing out the creases in my dress, the dress being periwinkle with white lace and chiffon sleeves. I'm wearing my laced up white boots that go up to my knees with two inch heels that I absentmindedly clicked together. I smile to myself bitterly. There's no place like home. I placed my blade in my smaller black bag, and tie the bag to my wrist for safe keeping. I check my reflection in the front mirror. Pale faced with pink cheeks and red lips, I think I look pretty decent, my hair tied in a bun with a few bangs to frame my face. I look out of my window again.

I see two girls walk towards the restaurant. The first one that draws my eye is tall with gold for hair that flows around her dramatically. She wears a low cut black dress with a split down her left leg and matching heels. Her eyes are violet and fierce, as if she was willing to cut you down with a glare. But the other girl is different to her. She's smaller than the other, short hair made from charcoal and dipped in blood, and eyes as silver as the blade in my bag. She's wearing a black and red chequered shirt and black jeans with matching boots, and the bright red jacket that I saw her in earlier today. She has her hands in her pockets, and I see the blonde girl sharply elbow her and say something to her. The girl in red simply narrows her eyes at her and reluctantly takes her hands out. I can't help but bite back a smile as the two of them shuffle inside.

But I see a black car pull up from behind me, and I see a man with thinning white hair and grey eyes climb out dressed in grey. I can my blood boil dangerously as I crack my knuckles. I watch the man slowly make his way towards the front door whilst looking over his shoulders hesitantly. He knows that this night could most likely be his last. I open my car door and climb out of my car and slam the door behind me. I roll my shoulders back and raise my chin up, eyes forward and back straight. I can't let anything distract me now.

I have a job to do.