Low-key | ✓

(5) Agent Sun

Agent Sun

"Your files say your band has been receiving death threats. Is that correct?" The agent's voice cut through the silence that had ensued between the six of them not so long ago. The boys had been fidgeting amongst themselves while she stared them down. To Sun, it was funny and irritating at the same time.

The four boys nodded, one's eyes looked downcast, showing indifference. Sun chose to ignore him. If he didn't want her here, she doesn't care. She didn't want to be here either, and yet here she was sitting in a booth in a well-known coffee shop in Los Angeles, California, talking to a bunch of pop stars about their current dilemma.

"Corbyn's actually the one receiving them directly." Zachary disclosed, blowing a piece of stray hair that went to his forehead. One thing that the agent had noticed about this young boy was that his cheeks were red most of the time. In his photo in the file she had of him, and in real life, the boy has a tinge of red painting his cheeks, and the agent secretly wondered if it was because he had a weird allergy.

Sun's eyebrows shot up at the revelation. Had Zach not disclosed this information to her, she would have never guessed. The blonde boy has been nothing but indifferent to the whole ordeal. It seemed as though he doubted her with every ounce of spite in his body. Though, the girl did notice that he seemed to like pushing her buttons, which she was not fond of. Maybe this was his way of showing her that he didn't like the idea of having her as their bodyguard. Him and her both, she internally scoffed. She never wanted to be a bodyguard in the first place. However, there was something about him that triggered something in her. This boy, Corbyn Matthew Besson had left a certain impression on her. He was something different. A good or a bad something, that, she doesn't know yet.

"Is that correct, Mr. Besson?" She looked at the dirty blonde haired boy who kept his eyes glued on the napkin holder. He nodded, his stare unwavering. If he continues staring at the napkins like that, he'd probably be charged for toiletries harassment.

Sun clicked her tongue, "Well if that's-"

"Good afternoon, may I please take your orders?" A new voice added into the conversation, irritating the agent. Had she not been in a public place, she would have shot this snotty waitress dead for interrupting her.

Sun's eyes averted from the blonde boy and to a waitress who looked as if she was good enough to be thrown to the non-biodegradable trash bin. Her skin was orange from the spray tan that- Sun assumed- she had gotten. Her strawberry blonde hair had a distinct smell that caused the boys to grimace.

Sun scanned the waitress' appearance with a blank stare and held back a grimace of her own. Her face was caked with makeup a thousand shades too light for her fake tan. If she did that to get a guy's attention, then she successfully did, in all the wrong ways possible. Not to be judgemental, but her face stuck out like a white sore thumb. Her name plate read Clarra.

This isn't a nightclub. The agent thought to herself after scanning the waitress' appearance and then looked away.

The boys each gave their order and Clarra happily wrote them down on her notepad. Her huge grin never left her face as she kept her head low for the boys to be able to see her boobs on full display due to her low-cut tank top. The boys, however, tried their best not to let the waitress flash them. They had morals, and clearly, this girl had none.

As she turned to Sun, her grin almost faltered at the cold grey eyes she was met with.

"Double Ristretto Venti Half-Soy Nonfat Caffeinated Organic Chocolate Brownie Iced Vanilla Double-Shot Gingerbread Frappuccino Extra Hot With Foam Whipped Cream Upside Down Double Blended, One Sweet'N Low and One Nutrasweet, and Ice ." Sun recited the order she had memorized by heart with a blank stare, before the waitress could even ask.