Dear dairy
March 1st
3:00 a.m.
I don't know why I'm like this.
"Do I look good?"
I stare at myself in the mirror again.
"Do I look good? Should I adjust something?"
No. No, that's wrong.
I shouldn't care about that.
I shouldn't
Right?
"Stand straight Aurum, stand straight."
I inhale.
"Pick it up. Pick it up. Fighting. Fighting. Fighting."
5:00 a.m.
I was ready too early, which means I start overthinking.
Bad habit.
I check the time again.
"…tsk tsk What was I even rushing for?"
Silence.
I sit back down and open my phone again.
Their flight itinerary is still open on my screen.
They're coming.
He's coming.
6:00 a.m.
Shoes.
Keys.
Car keys.
Bag.
I leave.
No breakfast.
I go straight to the family house first.
My father's office.
Knock. Knock.
No answer.
Too early.
I sit in the living room instead.
The house staff notices me immediately.
"Miss, would you like coffee, tea, water? Should we prepare breakfast?"
"No. Tea is fine. No sugar."
They nod and leave.
I wait.
I wait.
I wait.
My father finally arrives.
" my gold What brings you here this early?"
I take a breath.
Sit straight.
Calm.
No smile.
Don't smile.
Don't show anything.
Calm.
Calm.
Calm.
"The group arrives today."
He pauses.
"Oh. Is that so?"
"Yes, Father."
"Are you ready?"
I nod.
"Yes… but I have a request."
"I'm listening."
"Can I access their file?"
He looks at me like it's obvious.
"You didn't receive it?"
"No."
"It's in my office. Go get it."
"Thank you. Please excuse me."
I take the file.
I walk gracefully
My heart is loud. Too loud.
In the car.
My hands are not still.
That's a problem.
Calm down Aurum
The driver is waiting with the bodyguards.
I don't sit in the back.
I drive.
The airport.
I don't speak much.
I don't allow myself to look too excited.
But my foot keeps moving.
Tapping.
Tapping.
Tapping.
The bodyguard glances at me.
I know what that look means.
"You're not fooling anyone, ma'am."
I ignore it.
Cameras.
Noise.
Shouting.
They're here.
The group exits.
A wave of sound hits the air.
And I feel it.
My expression almost breaks.
Almost.
I step back into the van.
I sit in the driver's seat.
Control.
I need control.
Then the door opens.
They enter.
Four of them. And their manager I presume
The rest of their staff and their luggage enter in the second van
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
Their voices are calm.
Polished.
Real.
And then I hear him.
"Good morning."
Hiro.
I grip the steering wheel tighter.
"Good morning," I reply.
Flat.
Controlled.
Too controlled.
Can they tell?
And I drive.
END OF CHAPTER 1