Violet follows me into my apartment, and it's a good thing I cleaned this morning, because it was rough. Beer cans littered every surface, I had spilled something sticky on my counter, and the shattered pieces of my phone were on the floor. She whistles as she takes in the raised ceiling, wide open space, and the view from my windows.

"Holy hell, Eryk. How much is your rent?" She asked.

"Five grand a month," I answered, moving toward the fridge.

"FIVE GRAND?" She shouted.

"Yes, but as you can see, it's worth it. I have plenty of space, and that price includes utilities and amenities," I said, brushing off her overreaction.

Now, where is it? I swear there was one left. Moving items around my fridge, I find what I was looking for. Violet walks around my apartment as I crack open my drink and start sipping. She turns around at the sound and makes a face that's a mix between concern and surprise.

"You're having a drink?" She asked curiously, chewing on the inside of her lip.

She's trying not to show that it makes her uncomfortable. But why, it's just one drink, and I won't be driving anyway.

"Yeah. Aubrey left a few beers here months ago, and I'm trying to make my way through them," I lied.

Her concerned expression dissipates, and she just smiles at me.

"I can't believe you're drinking that garbage. There's beer, and then there's that."

"I didn't pick it, I'd much rather have liquor over this, but I don't love the idea of wasting something. So now that you've seen my apartment, are you ready to apologize for criticizing my taste?" I asked, steering the conversation away.

"Not at all. This place is huge, and it's filled with nothing that shows even a trace of your personality, Eryk. I wouldn't believe you lived here if I hadn't been told."

In that case, my apartment does a perfect job of reflecting who I am. An empty void that is missing elements to make it more human.

"Jeez, everyone's a critic. It's a work in progress, okay? Besides, it's not as bad as you're making it out to be," I argued.

"You don't even own a desk. It's as if you toured the apartment and chose to keep the furniture they were displaying as placeholders. Where's the flair, the little human touches? You love cooking, but you don't have a dining table, so how would you host a dinner? There's barely anywhere to sit, and you don't have a television or projector. We won't do it today, but we have to get you some more stuff. Especially since you can clearly afford it," she remarked.

"Alright, ease up, Zaha Hadid."

"Oh wow, you know one of the most famous female architects of the 21st century. Quit stalling and get changed."

I finish my beer and raise my hands in defeat. The stain gets spritzed with bleach before I toss it into my hamper. About half full, I can do laundry this weekend. Opening my closet, it takes a minute before I realize I'm shirtless in front of Violet. Fuck, did she see the stitches? This is going to be a pain to explain away. I grab an undershirt from my drawer and throw a black hoodie over it.

"Hey, sorry about that. I spaced and forgot I had company," I apologized.

"It's perfectly fine," Violet said, staring at me with a look I recognized.

She's sitting at the end of my bed and watching me. Just because I rejected her advance doesn't mean those feelings went away for her. It was careless of me to slip up like that. Making it harder for her will only prolong the time until her feelings for me fade away completely. She's so brazen with her lust that it reminds me of Isaiah. It occurs to me that bringing her back to my apartment could be perceived in a certain way. Managing so many things is causing me to slip up.

"I'm ready. Let's go," I said, heading for the door.

Quinstin's shopping district is massive, featuring two different malls, each with eight-floor garages, and that's not even mentioning all the storefronts that occupy both sides of six different streets. Department stores with over twenty floors, selling any item you could possibly think of. The only cars that use these streets are shoppers looking for somewhere to park, rideshares like Ryde, and public transportation. It is crowded even on a Monday afternoon at two pm. Swarms of people are going every which way, the sounds of bells ringing from frequently opened doors fill the air, and the smell of perfume floods my nostrils. It is a sensory overload, and the congestion caused by the sheer number of people exacerbates the irritation. There has to be a better way to do this. Hundreds upon hundreds of years have passed since the invention of commerce, and this is the best humanity can come up with?

I spot an entrance into the Southshore Mall and make a beeline for it, grabbing Violet's hand and pushing through the blob of people. She's incredible at maintaining her secret identity because she lets herself get pulled along by me, like she isn't one of the strongest Neuvohumans in this city. The mechanics of other powers fascinate me. When I take a power, I gain an understanding of what it can do, but that's different from actually knowing what it feels like to use it. Is her superstrength always active, and she's constantly holding back, or is it something that she has to activate? Together, we get to the sliding doors of the entrance, and finally, we're in the mall. There's a lot more space inside compared to the sidewalk, so we're not elbow to elbow with people anymore.

Southshore Mall is several floors tall and features a variety of stores. I checked before we left, and the AT&T store is on the second floor, next to the Godiva store. I'm not letting anything get in the way of buying a phone and leaving immediately. I can already see Violet's eyes wandering to the different boutiques and shops. I release her hand and start walking to the escalator. Forced to follow me or get left behind, she catches up to my side. There are quite a few people our age at the mall, and she purposely walks as close as possible to me, causing our shoulders to bump. To no surprise, she only does it when it's a woman. It's only slightly more mature than how Maria used to make faces and glare at girls staring at me. Despite that, it's about as subtle as a hydrogen bomb. Is she making it obvious on purpose to prompt a reaction out of me? It's doubtful she would be so sinister. My train of thought is interrupted as we arrive at our destination.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"You coming in? I won't be long," I said, doubting she'd agree to part from me.

"You go ahead, I'll just wait here," she said, completely defying my expectations.

I nearly choke in surprise, but I recover as I leave her leaning against the rail. Things are going exceptionally well. Which means there has to be bullshit afoot. New phone in mind, I head straight to the seller at the counter, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I slide the upgraded SIM card into my new phone. The worker looked so desperate to get me to buy the upgrade, I decided to give him the sale. My theory about the personality pieces getting stronger over time becomes increasingly certain with each passing day. It only took me twenty-five minutes to get everything sorted and paid in full. I start downloading all my settings, contacts, and files as I leave the store. Violet is exactly where I left her, but she's sipping at an iced coffee while scrolling through her phone.

"Thanks for waiting. Sorry, it took a bit longer than I thought it would. I'd buy you a coffee, but it looks like you already got one."

"Well," she stretched the word out. "I do love chocolate. So if you were still feeling generous." She bats her eyelashes and puts a puppy face on.

"Alright, message received."

The two of us go into the Godiva store, and the overwhelmingly sweet scent of chocolate assaults me. Gross. Everything inside is a deep brown color, similar to dark chocolate. A mini chocolate fountain is on the counter, refilling and recycling the same disgustingly sugary liquid.

"Welcome, is there anything I can do for you guys?" The worker asked.

An older woman in her late forties greets us. Her hair is put up neatly, and layers of makeup are used in an attempt to disguise her age and hide the many wrinkles on her face. She's plump, but her uniform fits well. It's like a stewardess' but with everything shades of brown to match the chocolate theme.

"He's buying me chocolate, so I'm just trying to decide what I want," Violet replied cheerfully.

"Oh, how sweet. You two make such a cute couple," the woman remarked.

God damn it.

"We're not dating," I said quickly.

"Oh. Oh. Sorry for misunderstanding," she apologized awkwardly.

"Don't worry about it," Violet said comfortingly. "What kind of chocolate do you like, Eryk?"

"I don't," I answered bluntly.

"What do you mean you don't?"

"I don't like chocolate or sugary things in general. I don't have a sweet tooth."

"Not even a really rich dark chocolate?" The worker asked.

"No. There is nothing in here that interests me. You're free to get whatever you want, Violet, but it'll be all yours."

I can see her deflate slightly at my response. Was she hoping for some kind of romantic chocolatey moment? Too bad for her, I can't stand the stuff. She resumes searching for something to get, but she looks dejected. The item she ends up picking is some chocolate pretzel thing full of hazelnut jam. I pay for it and take the worker's offer to wrap it up nicely for Violet. Her mood improves a bit at that. Anything is better than her pouting. It reminds me of Maria, and I feel a surge of aggression rush through me. Even months removed from her necessary death, she's still able to affect me so strongly. People do say that your first breakup is the hardest to get over. I don't have any feelings to get over, but how long until the memory of her unstable stupidity ceases to affect me?

"Eryk? Hello?" Violet is waving her hand in my face.

"Sorry, you were saying?"

"I was asking you if you minded if we stop at the Crepuscolo boutique?" Violet asked hopefully.

Do I? I accepted Aubrey's invitation to the friend group because it seemed like the easiest choice, and there was a chance to gather information about the Heroes' Union's inner workings. I don't like any of them, but they work well as a cover group. Their extracurricular activities as Union prospects keep them busy enough that they don't notice my own disappearances. Violet's feelings are the only detriment to this friend group in particular. I don't know if it's a mistake, but I still believe there is value to be extracted from them.

"Sure."

"Yay," Violet reacted sarcastically, but I can tell she is excited.

Crepuscolo is a fashion conglomerate that established itself early on after the Big Bang Trigger destabilized global markets. People thought it was the opening salvo of World War III, and that the United States and China would be getting involved next. Adding fuel to the fire were individuals with powers, who appeared and showcased impossible abilities. Widespread panic and fear of the future took over. Stocks plummeted, and the global economy suffered significant damage. People were too afraid to travel, unaware of where the next attack would be and by whom. Governments were forced to bail out the banks and these companies, but they could only do so much. Behind the scenes, world leaders were working toward a way to tackle the new reality. But it wasn't until the creation of the BNA and the Neuvohuman Accords that humanity started to change course from the edge it was racing toward.

The founders of Crepuscolo were all younger, fashion-minded individuals who came from families of generational wealth, and when everything went to hell, they pounced on the opportunity. They leveraged personal funds to buy up thousands of shares of major manufacturing brands. When companies began to close factories due to losses in profits, they swooped in and snatched them up. They used their capital to absorb several jewelry brands. By the time things were starting to correct course, Crepuscolo had eaten up a huge portion of the market. Strategic brand deals with popular creators, a killer marketing campaign, and a dual focus on both sustainable and affordable fashion for everyone, as well as high-end haute couture for the wealthy and ultra-rich. The former is known as the Luna Nuova line, and the latter is referred to as Eclissi.

The Crepuscolo Boutique only contains items from the Eclissi brand, while Luna Nuova is sold in every department store you can name. Violet's wanting to go there is a major clue to her family background. I had incorrectly assumed that she came from a high middle-class family. It isn't that no one but the uppercrust can shop here, but it isn't a place you just decide to go to on a whim if you aren't. It's something you save up for for a special occasion. Was her calling me rich just her projecting?

The storefront is made entirely of two solid pieces of glass, divided by the single door that goes from floor to ceiling. There isn't a sign for the boutique, just the symbol for Crepuscolo Eclissi, which is a perfect black circle with white lights shining around it. In the center is a capital letter C in cursive, the same white as the outside of the circle. There's a doorman on the inside, waiting to open the door for potential customers. He's a very large man, wearing a tailored suit, and based on the slight bulge on the left side of his torso, a gun. He's clean-shaven, with intense eyes, and his brown hair is buzzed short. He doesn't look intimidating; he actually looks friendly, which is more dangerous. Beware not the thug with vicious scars and face tattoos, beware the charming stranger who smiles. He's like Isaiah.

As Violet and I approach, he opens the door for us. Does he open the door for everyone, or do we look wealthy enough to be here? Something about the way he looks at me is bothering me. He's looking at me like I'm some worthless playboy. I channel Nobody as we walk up, meeting the man's eyes and giving him a mirthless smile. Punch's aggression and Tramp's pride are whispering things in my ear. I quiet the urges as we pass him. I need to relax before I do something that jeopardizes things.

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