With a Pull of a Trigger

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

The City of Deception

The wisps of afternoon light faded away to the darkness of the night sky, and Reini found herself leaning against the hard concrete, small sharp edges of said concrete finding its way against her skin through the blouse she was wearing. Under cover of the shadows and the inky blackness of the night, Reini could look at the people as small as ants below without them seeing her. It gave her a sense of mystery and a sense of superiority, she supposed, being invisible to the people of Los Angeles, California.

Los Angeles had always been home for the ones who escaped home. It was the land for the dreamers, the believers, and the ones who wanted to outshine everybody else. It was the land for the hopeful musicians and artists, the ones who hoped to make it into Hollywood, the ones who didn’t make it, and the ones who did.

As Reini looked down the balcony, at the people walking in all directions, at the beautiful young hopeful artists who resorted to becoming street whores waiting by the side streets, she couldn’t help but feel hopeless for the town she was in. How long was it before the young hopefuls finally realized they wouldn’t make it and leave? How many dreams were crushed in the city filled with them? How many people left before realizing that Los Angeles was the city where every single day was lived with people trying their best to survive? In the city of Los Angeles, it was survival of the fittest, and not many realized it before they had their dreams crushed by fake-faced people and bitter veterans of the silver screen.

The sky was black, not a single star in sight. How many hopefuls looked at the night sky and hoped a star was dedicated to them?

Reini knew that on the other side of the wall was the inside of the house where Christian, Tiffany, Joshua, and Samuel were. She felt like an onlooker—an intruder—from the outside, looking in, meant to never be a fitting piece in such an intricate puzzle.

The thing with Los Angeles, she supposed, was that people were unpredictable. The night sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight, but the people were unclear and always had masks to hide behind. It didn’t matter if the people were celebrity-wannabes or special agents—they were all the same, and they were all sly.

The city was a jungle, and they were all snakes in it.

When the moon was up in the sky, the prostitutes and escorts came out to play—their beautiful faces always hopeful that they would meet the guy that would be willing to bring them to the top of stardom. When the moon fell and the sun rose, the beauties and shadows came out to live—the celebrities and the hopeful young talents. Los Angeles was the city of deception, and it didn’t get its name from the people of the silver screen alone.

Reini sighed. The air was chilly, and the evening was silent—not a sound could be heard from even the inside of the house they were in.

During dawn in the city of Los Angeles, everything lost its shine. The buildings turned off their lights, and the ones who pretended to be stars fell back to the cold ground of reality. Real, dazzling stars made their way out of their homes and into studios, and the agents switched shifts, eager to go home and pretend they were secure. It wouldn’t be too long before the whole cycle would turn once more, and blood would be spilled in the city, vibrant red streaked across dull gray concrete. The special agents of the CIA would be coming out to play, and the oozing inky black darkness came out with them.

It was nearing eleven in the evening when Reini sighed and watched her breath disappear among thin air, hearing the faint sounds of city traffic from below. She absently rubbed her arms, trying to dispel the coldness she felt, and looked up into the night sky, still not seeing a single star.