Low-key | ✓

14 | Underground

Arsenic

THE ROOM was tense, and all you could hear was the heavy breathing of the three people inside.

I was not one of those three people.

I held my MYO knife tightly in my right hand, as my left clutched the Glock 26 I owned. I made sure to keep my mouth shut.

No noise.

That was the rule.

I suddenly heard a light crunch beside me.

I looked to my right and sure enough, there stood Corbyn Besson in all his I will get us caught glory.

I gave him a scowl and he returned it with a sheepish grin.

The two of us were behind the dark alley wall, whilst Four Black was inside the room of the so-called Underground.
Lucky for us, the alkey was right beside it.

I heard mumbles from the inside and I silently cursed myself for not giving Four one of my earpieces.

Suddenly, the mumbles stopped, and I could hear footsteps.

I quickly motioned for Corbyn to come with me as we tiptoed silently into my black Aston Martin.

Once inside, Corbyn let out a breath. He sat in the back, I in the front.

"Damn, I hate this shit."

I looked at his brown eyes with a questioning gaze, "What?"

He looked down and broke eye contact.

"I never thought it'd be like this."

Now I was genuinely curious.

"What do you mean?"

He then leaned back at the backseat and gazed at the car's ceiling.

"I've always wanted to be a famous singer, you know? But I guess I never really thought about the consequences I'd encounter while being one. The death threats, the stressing schedules, the messed up sleep. Sometimes I just want to be normal. No blood on my hands and shit."

I nodded. I guess it was not what he had expected when he had entered Showbiz.

Some people think that all the people in Showbiz have it easy, but thesr boys clearly don't.

He then looked at me, "What about you?"

His warm brown eyes were yet again gazing at my light grey ones.

I was taken aback, "What about me?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you. Do you have any regrets about being a secret agent?"

Did I?

Do I?

"No." I answered, looking at him.

He scrunched his eyebrows together, "Really?"

I turned back to the wheel and gave him a stiff nod.

He didn't answer me anymore.

I guess this conversation is over then.

I heard two knocks on the pasdenger seat door, and through the tinted windows, I could see that it was clearly not Four Black.

It was someone that I knew so well.

Someone that everybody knew so well.

"Holy shit, why is Cyrus here?" Corbyn whispered.

I shrugged.