She was the one I'm telling you about," Kay said to the elegant lady who was sitting in the café. Based from her look, she was obviously leveled with the high society. 'Well, looks can be deceiving most of the time.' Arya thought inwardly. Kay just asked her to come with him and meet someone who can help her to get a job with great offers since Kay knew her unfortunate situation right now. The lady scanned Arya from head to toe and said, "You are right, she looks fit for the task." Then the lady gestured the two to sit opposite her. The lady introduced herself as Rita who was probably at her twenties. Rita had discussed her offers to Arya first. Her jaw dropped hearing how good Rita's offers were. Then she asked, "That's seems too good to be true. But what's that job? I hope it's not an illegal thing." Rita smiled and discussed the task she needed to do to close the deal. "Why are you doing that?" she asked Rita out of curiosity. She can't believe that something like this do happened in real life too and that someone will even bother to plan for something like this. "You don't need to know the reason for it. But, I do hope you agreed to do this job." Rita said plainly. Arya frowned and looked at Kay with a confused face.

It's was a glorious colorful autumn. We’d just left the coffee shop. When we walked by, she had giggled and pulled me inside, saying, “C’mon, let’s be basic white girls and get some pumpkin spice!” I don’t like coffee. I never had. But when she handed me my cup and looked into my eyes while I tried it, it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. My hand still tingled where she grabbed it. As we walked through the park with our drinks, a light drizzle began to fall. She pulled out an umbrella from her bag, I pulled up my hood and hunched my shoulders. “Don’t be silly,” she giggled, pulling me under the umbrella with her. I couldn’t help but laugh too, her laugh is infectious. As the sun started to shine again, she pulled me down to sit on a bench. She beamed down at me, and I could only gaze back adoringly. “So Ava…” She began. I knew this tone of voice, it’s dangerous. “Who do you like?” She whispered, and I looked away. I wanted to say, ‘you, you, a thousand times you. You’re the only one I can ever think about. You’re gorgeous and sweet and funny and…’ Instead, I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my cup. She looked at me with a cautious smile. “If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?” “Okay.” I said. “The person I like… …is you.” I drop my drink.