𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐇 || ʜᴀᴡᴋꜱ

33 ➟ In which I realise that I'm a terrible spy.

   I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited to see her face, as it was a face I had grown to be excited to see. The urge to run up on stage and hug a familiar face was something I had to actively avoid, I didn't want to ruin the show, or, get questioned any further by my 'new boss' as to how I knew the entertainment, especially when Rio kept on glaring at me with these 'I know who you are' eyes.

So I simply sat and watched unsure where to look and how to act. As the crowd cheered and a few whistled, I simply nodded along with the music, following the various faces that sat in front and around me. At one point though, I did look directly at them, finding their eyes already fixed on me.

There was a lack of surprise on her face now, she was keeping up face. Literally. She never let her eyes leave me. I thought people would've noticed, begun to turn their heads toward me, following her line of vision, but they were too enchanted by her and I was not nearly as interesting as the woman on stage.

Grace. Bar owner by day, exotic dancer by night.

The music, already slow, seemed to slow down even more as she made her way off stage, just as seductively as she had done whilst she was on stage. Walking slowly, in between tables and chairs, walking directly toward me.

Me.

Panic rose in me, why was she walking toward me? The only thing I could do to lessen the look of recognition was to act surprised when she walked behind me, pulled my chair back and looked down at me, leaning down beside my ear and whispering, ever-so quietly, "Second door past the toilet, on your left."

That was all. Then she walked away. Walking behind other chairs and mimicking the same action she did with me, behind multiple people, I assume, to not look so suspicious. Within what felt like seconds, the show was over. People returned to their conversations, lit new cigars and hollered at servers for more drinks. The loud jazz returned to the speakers as if nothing had just happened and I almost shat myself when I looked up and noticed that everyone at my table was looking at me. 

"You're lucky," Clover noted beside me.

"So were the other five people she went up to," I responded.

He looked at me for a second, a smirk on his face, before turning back to the rest of the table, "See, she's already fitting in nicely."

"Just because a dancer came up behind her, doesn't mean that she's not about to betray us," Rio looked at him with a practically disgusted look on his face, his mouth twisting upside down as he shook his head, "stupid old man."

"I'm not old!" He retorted.

"But you are stupid?" Rio smirked as he caught the man out.

"Neither! I'm neither!"

Normally, I would've laughed at how childish the 'pro-hero' was acting, but I was much too focused on Grace and what she'd said to me. So much so, that I hadn't realised that I'd stood myself up from the table. Only when I realised that everyone at the table was looking at me (again) was when I quickly excused myself, asking where the bathroom was before I made my way away from the table. My heart racing. Partly due to how excited I was to see a familiar face and partly down to how obviously odd I thought I was acting.

Two men were in the corridor that connected the restaurant to the bathrooms and a few other doors sparse of any labelling or signage, the closest one I took note of as being the one Grace had told me to go through. I didn't think I could just waltz in there in front of the two men though, so I simply turned into the women's bathroom, nodding to the men who nodded to me.

The room was cool, cold cool, like the ac was mainly directed into the room. That's when I realised how hot my face had felt and really stopped for a moment. I really was the worse spy the Hero Public Safety Comission had ever produced and I had no clue what I was doing on this job. I really was blowing it. 

So I turned the tap on and threw it over my face. They did it all the time in movies and TV so I assumed it would help. It did. The cold water from the tap was nice. Chick flicks really were entertaining and useful. The toiletries looked nice too. Expensive. I also thought it would be less suspicious if I went back to the table with nice-smelling hands, so I used them. Not only did they look expensive, but they smelt expensive too. 

Part of me felt like I was just trying to buy time before I went to see her, the other part felt like I was actually making the excuse I was about to make when I went back to the Librarian and his family, seem much more realistic. 

I looked back up at the mirror once more, just to check if any of the makeup Lelija had put on had smudged or run, but instead, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw the shadow of someone standing directly behind me. I yelped, awkwardly flailing my hands as I spun on the spot, only to find no one there, cursing the dim lighting and whatever it was doing to my eyes. 

So I shook it off and opened the door. The men were no longer in the corridor and I took the opportunity to walk up to the door. Grace's door. Gracie.

This was fine. I was fine. Everything was fine.

And I knocked on the door.