Beneath The Mask

Chapter 1

∞∞∞
Author Note:
I wanted to take this opportunity to point out this is not soley my own work. SherlyHolmes22 is also an author of BTM. We co-authored this book. It has been a long time in the making. We originally began publishing this on fanfic.net but Wattpad has a significantly better user interface and we can edit off-line. So we are officially moving BTM to here. Please give us feedback- constructive criticism is highly welcomed! I hope you enjoy reading and commenting on BTM as much as we have writing and editing it. Sincerely~

∞∞∞

Jim: The Hunt

I decided to spend my morning in the main street café. If I'm going to be bored, I might as well do it while drinking tea. It's been almost three years since I faked my death in London. I have to admit, I impressed myself with that one. But now that I'm dead, I'm left with an odd problem: I have nothing to do. Sure, there are little customers still flocking to me for their less than legal requests. Boring, boring, boring. It's all boring. The only thing I have to pass the time is the people. The stupid people, easily manipulated down to the last word. I thought France would be better, but who was I kidding? They're all the same. I miss the games.

I look out the window, searching in vain for something to catch my attention. Nothing- wait. I could swear I've never seen her around before. I can't have missed her. Could I? About 21, professional, works with people, honest, and, going by what I can tell from here, mildly oblivious. She doesn't seem that interesting. So why did she catch my attention so quickly? Only one way to find out. Besides, I was already eager to leave the café.

She's walking at a relaxed pace so it won't be hard to catch on to her, blending in with all the other idiots as usual -the most infuriating part of being dead. The closer I get, the more curiosity I feel building up. For once, I think this one might be quite an interesting toy.

∞

She still hasn't noticed me. I've been following her for a full ten minutes. I've eavesdropped on her casual conversations with passing strangers. I've stood next to her in line for coffee. Not once has she noticed me. Why do I find myself interested in this girl? Whatever the reason may be, I'm compelled to trail her.

I see her look at a paper. Wait- an invitation. Oh, I remember, there's a showing at the museum. There's a new painting being unveiled - for which I provided the forgery. Boring little thing. But it has been a long time since I've gone to a party. I'll have to dust off my Westwood.