From the Cosmos. [gxg]

xxi: being known.

After Colette's heartfelt speech, Mrs. Schultz entered the room, breaking them apart yet again during an important moment. The middle aged woman took the tay from them, asked them if they needed anything else, and then left. Colette seemed to take Marisol's lack of response as acceptance, and she was right to. Marisol couldn't find any more excuses for denying herself of a relationship with Colette, especially not when the model had stars in her eyes.

They sat in silence, and unlike earlier, Marisol didn't feel awkward or scared. Instead, she leaned on Colette's shoulder and took out her dead phone, plugging it into the charger. This seemed to catch Colette's attention, who sat straight up, effectively pushing Marisol's head away.

"I forgot to tell you," Colette said, wide eyed, "We've been identified."

"Both of us? How?"

Colette furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't know," she said as she grabbed her phone off the nightstand, "I didn't get time to read the article before I ran off to find you." She unlocked her phone and searched "Colette" in her web browser. Many news articles popped up. She pressed on the one that Mrs. Schultz had shown her and held it out so the both of them could read.

WITCH FROM PROTEST IDENTIFIED AS FRENCH ACTRESS COLETTE.

The witch who threw police officers with magic at a New York City protest has been identified as the 20 year old French actress Colette Lamoureux. Lamoureux became popular through the American teen drama "Zodiac Class."

Police body cams as well as internet speculation both played crucial parts in Lamoureux's identification. Nobody has seen Colette since the incident, and her agency has not issued a statement. The other person identified was 19 year old Marisol Reyes, a photographer's assistant at Queenly magazine in New York. Paparazzi released photos of the two at a coffee shop together, just one day before the protest ...

Marisol looked away. "I don't need to read anymore," she said, "This sucks."

Colette nodded in agreement, but continued to look through news articles. "I'm not sure how I can get out of this one," Colette said, "I might be a permanent enemy of the state."

Marisol buried her face in her hands. "I don't even know where to go from here," she said, "What are my parents going to say? They've probably already tried to call me." She glanced at her phone which had finally turned on, a measly 1% showing by the battery icon. As soon as her phone connected to the WiFi, her phone sprang to life, notifications filling the screen. Her social media, which was limited to instagram and facebook, seemed to have dozens, if not hundreds of notifications. She had less than 200 followers across both platforms last time she checked. Even more significant were her texts and calls. She had more than 20 missed calls from Isaac, Queenly HR, and her parents. Dread filled her stomach.

"I suppose I need to take care of that," Marisol said, "Or at least call my parents back."

Colette frowned. "I've gotten a lot of messages as well," she said, "But I'm worried about our phones being tracked."

Marisol sighed. She didn't know much about technology, but the fear of the government raiding the Schultz's home was enough to dissuade her from making any phone calls. "Okay, but I'm going to go through the messages. I need to know what's happening."

"Me too," Colette responded.

The two of them remained in bed, though focused on their own phones. Marisol opened her texts. These were all from Isaac and her parents.

Isaac:

I cannot believe you...

Marisol, darling, how could you leave me with such turmoil! The press won't get off of me.

Answer your phone!

Are you and Colette a thing? I had a feeling that you swung that way.

HR is asking me questions.

All of these other assistants are incompetent.

Suddenly everyone here knows your name.

You're famous now.

Be safe, don't let the feds get you.

Marisol furrowed her eyebrows. Isaac's text messages seemed genuine, wishing for her wellbeing. It was such a contrast to how she was treated by him at work, like another set of hands. She almost felt sad that she couldn't listen to his demands. In another circumstance, she might have laughed at her superior's panic. She switched over to her mother's texts. Marisol's parents weren't much of technology users, and her mother texted for both of them.

Mom:

Are u okay

Marisol

Answer the phone

We love you no matter what

Answer the phone

We'll get you a lawyer

Come home

We aren't mad

We're worried

Marisol answer please

We love you

Tears welled in Marisol's eyes. She always thought it was funny how her mother typed, straight to the point with no punctuation, but now the messages were filled with desperation. She wanted so badly to respond, and to tell them that she was okay. They left several voicemails, but she couldn't bring herself to listen to them.

Marisol swiped the tears from her eyes before they could fall. She checked her email account, only to have a single email from Queenly's HR department. The email was short and straight forward, telling her that she was being placed on unpaid leave until a decision is made regarding her place at the company. To Marisol, it just seemed like a process delaying her inevitable termination. She felt her shoulders slump. She's going to lose her dream job, the thing she prided herself the most on. She had been the youngest ever hired magazine staff at Queenly, and likely now the youngest to be fired. She swallowed down an oncoming crying spell and opened her Twitter.

Maybe she shouldn't have had her twitter on public, nor her name in her bio, for a situation like this. Her notifications were flooded with people arguing in her replies. Some people defended her, some people condemned her, and some even tried to dissect her relationship with Colette. She had also gained tons of new followers, many, she guessed, hoping that she'd share an update on the situation.

Instagram looked similar. Her comment section looked like a wildfire and her follower count had exploded. She considered deleting her account just to get away, but that would be making her presence known. Instead, she opted for deleting both Twitter and Instagram from her phone.

"How's your phone looking?" Marisol asked.

Colette shook her head. "I have messages from both my French and American agencies to contact them," she said, "The American one is threatening to end my contract, while my French agency wants me to return to France somehow."

"You wouldn't be able to get two steps into the airport without being identified," Marisol said.

"Exactly," Colette set her phone down, "Though they said that they are being contacted by the French government on the issue."

Marisol straightened up. "The French government?"

Colette nodded, "It makes sense, once I think about it," she said, "France was rather late to the European trend of legalizing magic. Before it was legalized, the punishments for using magic were just as cruel as it is here. It's very likely that they want to try and take my side to show themselves as leaders in the worldwide Magic Rights issue."

"So, your situation has been turned into an international dispute."

"Yes," Colette responded, "It has."