The Worst In Me

1 - Sang

{Sang}

"You need to be cautious with these men, Sang. They're dangerous and manipulative, even though, at first appearances, they seem harmless," Phil warns, his voice stern and affirmative. But even with his furrowed, graying brows and his hard tone, the underlying unconditional love he feels for me is still present, as he's the only man who's ever really loved me. More than my own father does, at least.

"I will, Phil. I promise," I insist, accepting the hug he offers me and breathing in his old pine scent. "Besides," I continue, pulling back to give him a playful smile, "when am I not?"

"All the time, actually," he chuckles. "That's why I always find it necessary to remind you."

"True," I shrug. "But being careful is just so boring."

"But it's what keeps you safe."

"Sure, safety is important, but I'd say the most important thing is to get the job done, whatever the cost," I challenge.

"And that is precisely one of the reasons why you're one of the Academy's best, but it's also one of the reasons why I'm forced to stitch you back up after nearly every assignment you go on. One time, Sang, just one time I'd like you to come back unharmed."

I huff, "Fine. But only 'cause I love ya."

"I love you too, munchkin." I grumble a little at the nickname he's been calling me for years, ever since I met him five years ago when I was twelve and was first introduced to the Academy. Now I'm graduated, have been for a year, and I'm the youngest to ever do so.

I don't know how they found me, because apparently I'm a "ghost bird," as they like to call me. Basically, that just means I don't legally exist in the eyes of the government, for I was never claimed or legitimized and no physical or digital evidence of me exists. My dad is kind of a dick, to say the least.

I say my final goodbyes to him before I'm out the door, riding in the backseat of an expensive, all-black car with my friend Brian as the chauffeur. It's all part of the plan: show up to the gala in a fancy car, wearing my way too luxurious, skin-tight, blood-red dress that reaches the floor, pretend to mingle and have a good time while actually looking for the criminals I'm after, and eventually get them to trust me enough to show me back to their place so that I may know where they live. That way, I can investigate their house and find the exact files I'm looking for. It's simple, really.

The Academy asked for volunteers for this mission, making it clear that it could be potentially dangerous and things could go wrong very easily, but I was still the first to volunteer, as I usually am. For one, it comes with six favors--which is basically a fuck-ton for one assignment--and it's also vital that this gets done correctly and seamlessly. If they realize they've been tricked, no-doubt will they kill me, or worse. Not to brag or anything, but I'd say I'm definitely one of the best in the Academy when it comes to being sneaky and getting myself out of sticky situations.

I'm a smooth talker, and I've been told my face doesn't hurt either. Plus, I live for danger. It's kind of a secret--though I'm pretty sure the cat's out of the bag at this point--but I'm a bit of an adrenaline junky.

Phil insisted that I don't take this assignment because it's dangerous and he doesn't want me to pimp myself out, but it's not like I'm completely innocent. Sure, I haven't had sex, but I'm not oblivious and I won't pretend to be pure. I've done things. Besides, I plan on getting out of the situation before it goes too far--I'll say I don't feel too well and straight up book-it before I lose my virginity to some sleazy stranger--but I know by then I'll have probably already done other things with them. I don't expect to leave without at least having kissed them.