GREETINGS FROM W

Sixteen

I-Luna won the Best Female Artist Award.

I didn't know how to take it. I-Luna didn't even make her songs, nor her dances, nor anything. Her producers and choreographers did everything, and she was only the puppet getting all the recognition.

But she wasn't as famous as she was a few years ago as she had the best producer working by her side— Luke. But she ruined his talent by falsely accusing him of s****l assault. 

I didn't know why she had to do it. For money? If it were the case, then one day she would deeply regret it. 

I opened my laptop and selected the files I edited and the ideas I added to send them to my friends' emails. 

The idea of starting a music group still sounded strange to me. Even if it looked easy, I knew how difficult it was to be part of the music industry. It's by far one of the most dangerous in the world because aside from making songs and singing on stage, society requires you to change and be the person you're not. 

Perhaps it was the reason why Wolfe decided to leave the world. I knew they required a lot from him. Even though he was one of the greatest producers, his fans and the company demanded a lot of things such as which haircut he should choose, and which clothes to wear, and which people to befriend. 

Wolfe was all smiles on camera, but he must have been going through hardships in reality. 

My mum knocked on my door and entered, “Are you okay?” she looks at me with concern, “You skipped lunch,”

“I'm alright,” I lied with a smile, “I'm just working on some things,”

Mum hummed, “Are you still seeing Luke this afternoon?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “I'll need dad's car, by the way,”

“Sure,” she approached my bed and took a seat in the side. “Say hello to Luke,” she smiles sadly, “I would never forget all the help he offered us when we were dealing with financial problems,” she sighed and caressed the bedsheet gently, “He's a good man, Luke. Sadly, he had to end up behind cells,”

“I know,” I mumbled, “Our society is unfair. When people get a little more money than you, they think they can control you,”

After I ate lunch—my mum ordered me to— I asked my dad for his keys and left the apartment. I got in the car and tapped the address in the GPS. 

I turned on the radio, and the first thing I hear was I-Luna's voice. The song which won the award was playing, and I rolled my eyes before I changed the channel. I couldn't stand listening to her singing and winning awards when an innocent man was in prison. 

Sixth Sense's latest song was playing, and I smiled when I remembered Aaron. It was kind of him to offer me that rose— which I put in a vase on my desk— and I was happy to see him and the rest of the group during the memorial service. Sixth Sense was one of the many jewels Wolfe left us. He produced their best songs, and I could see his good manners through them. 

I arrived at Ignis Prison after a long ride, and I got my ID card before I left the car. An officer stopped me and asked me who I was visiting. I gave him Luke's name as well as my ID, and he called a woman officer to check my pockets in case I brought a weapon. If only I were that brave to help Luke get out of this rat hole. 

Another officer guided me inside and asked me to wait in a large room with a dozen round tables. I guessed this time I wouldn't have to communicate through a phone with Luke. 

I took a seat and looked around as I waited, and I saw the prisoners talking to a family member or a friend or a lover. They were smiling from ear to ear despite their sad fate. I wondered what they did to get arrested. Were they innocent like Luke? Or did they deserve prison? 

It was hard to know the truth. 

The door opened, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw Luke enter the room. His hair was a little longer, and I could see he shaved his beard clumsily and fast as there were still some unshaved spots. 

“Hey, Sky,” he smiled, and I stood up to hug him. He sighed and patted my back gently, “How are you doing?”

“I should be the one asking you,” I said as I sat back on the wooden chair. “How's it going?”

Luke shrugged, “The usual,” he replied, “There's nothing much to do in prison,” he chuckled, “But I've been writing songs though,”

“Really?” I smiled.

He hummed, “It sucks that I don't have a laptop here, but at least they give me a paper and pen. I didn't know prison life could inspire me to write some good hits,”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. I couldn't believe Luke was joking when people ruined his life and his career. 

“That's good to know you found how to spend your time here,” I said. 

“And how are you guys?” Luke asked. 

“As confused as ever,” I mumbled, “Say, Luke. What did Wolfe write to you in the letter?”

Luke raised an eyebrow, “I told you before. He said he wanted you to be a group,”

“No, aside from that. Did he write something else?” I asked, “Do you have the letter with you now?”

Luke shook his head, “I left it in my cell. But why are you asking? Is there something wrong?”

I nodded, “We reread the letters, and we noticed his words didn't make sense,”

Luke rested his back against his chair and rubbed his chin, “He did write something weird, but it was only one sentence. The rest was about the group and the company,”

“What was the sentence?” I quickly asked as I didn't want to waste the limited time we had.

“Well, he said something about matryoshka dolls and a key,” Luke chuckled, “I don't know what it means, and we never had them in the company,”

“Russian dolls?” I furrowed a brow, “Seriously? Was he high on something before he died?” I crossed my arms.

Luke frowned, “Watch your words, Sky,”

“Yeah, sorry,” I sighed, “But he said some strange things about colours, and fairy dust, and a masked ball. And now Russian dolls?” I scoffed, “You've got to be kidding me,”

Luke furrowed a brow and looked at me for a moment. “They're clues,” he mumbled quietly, “He wasn't high, Sky. He's telling us something,”

“Yeah, but what?” I raised an eyebrow. “Because I don't get anything. None of us does,”

“I'm sure there is a way to understand this,” Luke rubbed his chin. “Wolfe was making a new album before his death. I don't know which group he was supposed to give it to, but maybe there is something,”

“He left it for us,” I said, looking at him sadly, “We found the key on his desk. He wrote seven songs and recorded guides and left instructions about line distribution, etcetera.”

“Really?” Luke looked at me with surprise, “And did you find something?” 

“The songs are pretty normal, I guess. But Wolfe left a clue though. Tyler found out that if we take the first letter on each title, we read 'trust me'.”

Luke widened his eyes and gulped. He looked around to make sure no one was listening, and he leaned closer. “This is serious,” he mumbled, and I nodded.

“Tell me, Sky. Does anyone of you have Russian dolls?” 

I raised an eyebrow, “How would I know?” I chuckled, “I didn't see any in Shadow's villa, and I don't know about the rest,” I shook my head and stayed silent for a moment until it hit me.

“How about you?” Luke asked. 

I gulped and froze for a moment as I remembered something.

“I think... I think I have them,” I mumbled, “I mean, I don't know if it's still there, but I remember my dad got me a set when I was nine or ten.”

“Do you know where it is?” 

I shook my head, “I have no idea,”

Luke pressed his lips, “Sky, I think you should go.” he said, “Look for it, and next month, tell me what you found,”

“Luke,” I rolled my eyes, “I'm sure I'm not going to find it. It's been years, and—” 

“Sky,” Luke cut me off with a colder tone this time, “Find those matryoshkas,”