Heavy Rain

Prologue

"Margo always loved mysteries. And In everything that came afterward, I could never stop thinking that maybe she loved mysteries so much that she became one." -John Green

Prologue

Have you ever trusted someone so deeply even if he held a gun and fired towards you, you'd still solely believe in that something went wrong with the gun instead and happened to pierce through your chest by accident?

That sounded a bit complicated since no one had survived enough to prove it. Let's just say you'd trust someone enough to let him know that you were actually secretly in love with Severus Snape, not that anyone would judge you.

Dammit, did I just make things more complicated?

The point is, you'd trust someone enough that you won't change your thoughts on him, not even after you'd heard rumors about that person.

Well, the problem was rumors spread like fire. In fact, they're even more like fireworks. People seemed to enjoy those colorful stripes exploding across the sky but never bothered to find out what they were made of which is the root of the whole thing, like the lilac flames are actually created by potassium.

See, you probably didn't care about my last sentence.

The more rumors you listened to, the more harder it became to choose whether which one was more believable, maybe none of them.

Nobody was trustworthy, anything you heard, part of them must be lied.

I had always been very curious about Lukas Black.

One time, I offered him a drink but he wasn't even looking at me at all, not even my boobs. I, Victoria Henderson aka the mortal version of Aphrodite was never treated so badly by any living men.

I doubt he ever had a sip before.

The only reason he was at the pub was to discuss businesses with his clients which were always held in private booths. Not even the waiters were allowed to enter, so that was how I guessed.

During my second attempt, he rejected my offer of making out in his car. I got so mad that I called him a virgin of all names I could come out with.

"I'm pretty positive that Black is a virgin," I told everyone who mentioned him in front of me.

Like I said, rumors spread like fire. Soon, everyone in the circle had heard about it. Honestly, nobody was surprised for the piece of information since he was never seen hanging out with a girl, nor a guy except his fellow black-suited followers. He didn't seem to care about it anyway.

In all those expensive branded attire, it was clear that he was rich.

But how rich?

They said he was as rich as Kim Kardashian and some said he was actually working secretly for the president of the United States of America.

Some even said he kills for a living.

Everyday, people around me would gossip about him mostly negative comments but I found neither of them reliable. I couldn't shake my mind off the memory of seeing him with a little girl.

That evening, I was walking back home when the same BMW stopped in front of a small shop house. The tall man took off his aviators, kneeled down and hugged the girl goodbye before she headed into the shop house.

That was how I knew his eyes were blue.

I was deeply attracted with those eyes, the way they curved into the perfect angles of a crescent, were too perfect to be fake. He must had been truly happy.