THREE YEARS AGO — SIENNA COLLEGE SEMINAR AND RECRUITMENT DAY
His back trashed against the wall with a resounding thump. He was about to slither to the floor when a rough hand picked him up by the collar and began pelting him with more punches.
"Say it, bastard, will you continue with the deal? Say it before I break every bone in your face!"
The victim spat blood in his assailant's face, "D-did G-glad-ius send you h-here? I-is tha-t old man s-so darn afrai—"
Another punch interrupted his words of spite.
"Geez, easy on the punches boxer man," One of the other men patted the assailant's chest to back him away from the person-turned-sandbag. "We need him alive to sign the documents," he snickered.
The assailant spat, "We can just kill him and use his bloody thumb prints for the signature."
The victim finally slithered to the floor but his mouth did not stop, "I-is it for C-c-centurion?"
"Hm, on second thought, let's just cut his tongue off. Our lawyer will have a field day with him," the other man snickered as he pulled out a knife from his back pocket.
"Sounds like a deal," the assailant snickered along with the rest of his goons.
The victim sniffled, curling his body against the wall as he stuttered, "I k-know G-gladius is p-planning to tak-e ov-er Centu—"
But the man couldn't complete his sentence as the knife was lunged at him. He closed his eyes, expecting demise, though, instead of a swift slash and consequent splashes of his blood — there was a loud thump and a yelp.
A chatter of shouts and curses flew around. He opened his eyes to see a ginger haired girl, limping with a crutch and a lego-like baseball bat in her hand. Her knuckles were white with fear, dark eyes glaring at the goons, daring them to take a step forward.
"Come at me, I dare you!!" She shouted and flailed the bat around with no thoughts in her head, whatsoever.
The victim's heart hammered as he stared at her limp leg and curled back. He sighed with a heavy heart and dragged himself against the wall to stand up. As soon as his mouth reached the side of ear, he whispered, "What the fucking hell do you think you're doing?!"
Surprised by the rudeness of the sudden whisper, the girl jerked away — accidentally hitting a goon in the process — and exclaimed, "Excuse me?! I am trying to save your life!?"
A couple of goons lunged at her. The boy pulled her to the wall and swung a kick in one of the goon's face while rolling off the back of the other to elbow the third's nape.
"I don't need your saving," the boy spat as he punched the second goon in the gut, "I was working."
"Woah—" the girl gasped, "Quite the job description— behind you!" She exclaimed as the assailant stood up. She lunged the bat at him but the victim boy caught hold of it mid-way.
He had expected the bat to have a plastic feel considering it looked like legos joined together but was surprised to feel his hand jerk by its weight. It felt like a real baseball bat upon touch and as he swung it back towards the assailant's forehead, the resounding thump confirmed his suspicions.
"What is this...?" He frowned at the object in his hand, "It doesn't look like a bat but why does it feel like one?"
The ginger haired girl surveyed the passed out bodies in the dark lobby and then looked up at the dark haired boy, battered, bruised and bloodied.
"You need first aide," the girl urged and leaned forward to grab the bat away.
He evaded her snatch with sleek swiftness, "You just soiled a three year plan I was working on, do you know that?" There was a bitter undertone in his words, "Are you a student here?"
"Yes I am," the girl tsked; she leaned against the wall and raised her crutch to swat the bat off his hands. The attack took him off guard and the girl lunged to grab the bat, losing balance in the process. She grabbed the bat midway through but a swift fall and a broken chin were in lieu.
Though, instead of having her face smashed against the floor, she felt an arm swoop around her waist and pull her back up on her feet.
"Geez, you're so unnecessarily restless," the boy grumbled.
"Ah, um, thanks," the girl firmly grabbed onto her crutch and the baseball bat. "You should really get some first aid though, come with me. Also, I am sorry for messing up your work but you didn't seem to be having a good time."
She limped her way out of the narrow lobby and he followed suit.
"Ways, means, ends," the boy shrugged, "Are you trying to get hired for work?"
"Yeah, my dream is to get out of that darned orphanage and work in a big company at the capital!" The girl exclaimed, joy dripping off her tone.
"Good luck with that," the man snorted as they entered the Nurse's room.
"Aren't you hurting?" The girl asked as she turned to face him, concern lacing her frowning brows and pouted full lips.
"Occupational hazards," the man shrugged again.
"You're very secretive. Makes me think you work for a gang or something. Mafia, maybe?" The girl mused.
"Manufacturing," the boy supplied as he sat himself on a stretcher.
"You can rest here, Nurse Hailee must be out for lunch. I will call her."
The boy nodded as she left through the door.
He rested his head against the pillows of the stretcher placed in the Nurse's room and raised his hand to observe the small piece he had broken off of the baseball bat. It was a mechanical piece no larger than his finger nail and as he narrowed his eyes to look for detail, he spotted the unmistakable nanofibers.
"This is genius...but how?"
...
Every piece of media that Elsie had ever consumed preached on and on about justice and kindness, though for the next three years of her life, Elsie ground her teeth with a realisation that it was all a sham. A lie. A fabrication.
Kindness did not bring about good results. Doing the right thing often pulls one in a webb of troubles from which it is impossible to untangle.
For not only was she rejected by every company that came for a campus recruitment in a remote town like hers, but she was also rejected for every internship she had been offered or applied to.
Elsie was given a first hand reality check by life and she did not find it pleasing. So, disregarding the inconveniences brought about by her foot she personally went to all the places she had been rejected from and drew up a unified conclusion, "We cannot accept you. You have been blacklisted by our manufacturer. Please leave."
PRESENT DAY — AT THE AUREILESS ESTATE.
"YOU!" she acknowledged him with an unladylike temperament, "YOU HUNGRY CAPITALIST BRA—" a hand found its way to her mouth and ceased it from uttering profanities.
"Young Miss, please, calm down! Master Coshford is your fiancé! Joining hands in a good matrimony is the only way to survive the hell hole called high society!" Mr. Polin seethed a whisper in her ear as he pulled her struggling and flailing body out of the living room with the quick ease of a ninja.
"I REFUSE! I DO NOT—"
"Hush, hush, hush," Mr. Polin gently grabbed her head and pressed soothing hands to calm her down, "Miklaus Coshford is incredibly hot, Young Miss!"
Elsie rolled her eyes at that before she was pushed back inside.
The man seated on the center of the sofa greeted her with an amused smile. Elsie merely stared at his dark hair descending into a mullet, sharp azure gaze, a strong jaw and the fitting turtleneck that embraced his toned muscles like a lost lover. His thick brows were raised with expectation, eyes staring, unblinking.
Mr. Polin was so wrong. This person wasn't attractive at all.
Because all Elsie saw instead of his face was a text message reading, "We regret to inform but you are rejected from this job."
"Please, I understand I am an enchanting vision to a commoner's eye but do not exhaust yourself in the process. We need all that energy for after we get married," he said with a subtle smirk gracing his lips.
Elsie took a seat in front of him, not because he asked her to but because it was the appropriate thing to do. Her mind was wrapped in all the experiments she could legaly conduct under the Aureiless name and wealth.
"I refuse to believe my grandmother had such rotten taste in men," Elsie spat as she crossed her hands over her chest.
"A good day to you too," he pushed his cheeks up in a sarcastic smile.
"Ah ha, I'm sure you were looking forward to it," Elsie snapped.
"Oh indeed, I have quite the jitters right now," he mused.
"I cannot believe you had me blacklisted," Elsie growled.
"I was saving you for the best, of course," he supplied, the sarcastic smile never leaving his face.
"Did you know me?" The hardness in her face fell, "Did you know who I was when we met three years ago?" There was a sudden tenderness in her voice that caught him off guard.
"No, I did not. You were the one who ruined things for me, you know, I had no idea of your existence," he answered, honestly.
A maid walked in and placed two cups of tea on the table between them.
"Then...you don't seem surprised to see me right now, after everything," Elsie asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Ways, means, ends," the man shrugged, "My name is Miklaus Coshford. I am the sole heir to the Coshford industries and your grandmother's bes—"
His introduction was cut short as Elsie picked up a cup of tea and slurped on it. Though, instead of tasting warm sweet liquid, what went inside her mouth was chilli mixed in warm water. So, like the very dignified woman that she was, Elsie spat the scorching chilli water out of her mouth.
Though, to Miklaus' inconvenience, his face happened to be in line of Elsie's splurge and the hot chilli liquid jumped onto his eyes and nose like a nostalgic friend.
The man yelped as chilli burned his eyes.
Elsie coughed like a madwoman to get the senses back into her mouth.
Miklaus shot up in haste to find water to rinse his eyes with. At the same time, Elsie shot up to rinse her mouth with water. Tears blurred her vision, snot clogged his breathing and they ran into eachother midway, toppling a flower vase and stool in the process.
Howling and yelping, they rolled and fell to the floor. The flower vase dropped on his back and poured water in between them. Like humans parched, Elsie lunged for the water trickling down his shirt collar while Miklaus placed her wet hair on his eyes to soothe the burning sensation.
All the while Mr. Polin stood behind them with his jaw hung low.