Professor Abbey Hawthorn never intended to return to Galar, but when her friend Anabel of the International Police asks for her help, she feels she can't refuse.
Truthfully, Abbey doesn't accept just for Anabel. She knows it's time to finally face h...
Hop couldn't resist smirking. Abbey glared, because she really didn't want Leon finding out after that bizarre accusation, but he was as innocently oblivious to that as ever.
'Well – what'd he say, anyway?'
Hop was already on his Chirper profile. He held up the screen for her to read, angled out of his brother's view.
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Abbey had to admit she was surprised. So he could stand up for her to another celebrity, but not to his fans? What did that say? Not that it mattered. He could Chirp all he wanted. Olivia was right. He needed to go, regardless of how she felt about anyone else.
Her nose wrinkled. 'I was actually hoping to get rid of him. You don't have any suggestions, do you?'
Leon blinked. 'You – want to kill him?'
'No!'
She couldn't help laughing. 'I want to dump him. I'd never ask you for a hitman. He'd get lost.'
'Oh... oh, yeah.'
His eyes betrayed that he felt out of his depth, like a drowning child. 'Because he's so famous?'
'Yeah. Like, I can cope with the fans – it's not like they don't bother me already – but what about his manager?'
Hop frowned. 'What about his manager? Can't you just do it? I mean, you probably shouldn't do it via text, but...'
That look disappeared from Leon's eyes. They were unreadable again.
'It's not that simple, Hop.'
'I really wish I hadn't let it get this far. But I was young. I wasn't famous. I didn't understand.'
Sighing, she subconsciously rested her arms on his desk. She was startled when Leon's cold hands squeezed hers.
'It's not your fault. It's impossible to know – to imagine what it's like, the entertainment industry – without actually experiencing it.'
Hop cleared his throat. He stood. 'Need a wee.'
'You've only just been!'
He winked. Abbey scowled, but he'd already pulled the door shut. It drifted open again. Leon shook his head.
'I hope I've not made him anxious.'
No, you numpty, he thinks he's a matchmaker.
'Think he's just being him.'
'Anyway, while he's gone – I don't like talking about these things in front of him, because he worries, but... did you sign something? Or has the manager just threatened you?'
