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❚❙❙ {Project 02} Crossing Past (ENDED)
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Posted 5/28/14 , edited 6/10/14

Irked by the sudden change of attitude, Punk lifted her hands away from him with the tips of his thumb and forefingers. He was still perturbed as he moved an inch away and spoke formally.

"Firstly, Miss Royscott, I am immune to girlish pleas. Secondly, don't even think about using puppy eyes. Thirdly, I don't know what your relative said but I have accidentally activated a GPS in your phone. I knew it would happen but your disappearance gave me no choice. Someone really powerful in your family's prized heirloom is watching you and could have already discovered your rescue before you called. Closely. I took the liberty to deactivate it so stop shrieking. Lastly, you better return me the favour for housing you until you are ready to hail your own cab home. Long story short - you owe me. And I have just thought of a way for you to repay me."

Punk stood up and adjusted his plain white shirt. He tilted his head and spoke authoritatively, "you will, by hook or by crook, get your grandfather to put in a good word for me and withdraw all law suits against the Police. Thanks to you, I am facing a serious inquiry at work tomorrow which may jeopardize my position."

He leaned in and cornered Renee with his toned arms. "You will do that," he spoke in a low tone. "Or I will overturn every tiny piece of rock to find you and pay you back ten folds for all the trouble."

Though a little threatening, he sill withdrew and headed to the neat white tiled kitchen beside the bathroom. It was built in a small corner with a bar counter to separate the living room and the tiny kitchen area. Soon, the sweet aroma of Mirin sauce filled the single's apartment followed by the sizzling of oil on hot pan. It only took a moment for the savoury omelette to occupy anyone's thoughts of soft, fluffy eggs with its intimate scent. Punk expertly flipped the eggs in his square frying pan. Tamagoyaki was his favourite dish which he proudly shared it with his partner. Despite his heritage, he found himself immersing in his weekend readings on Eastern dish recipes. His team often tried to trick him into cooking for them if they worked overtime with sickly sweet compliments and strong instigations. Punk stood strong - he would not spoil them unless cooking proved to be beneficial to his team's progress. He did a quick flip of the moist Tamagoyaki on a clean plate and served it with ketchup. Placing the fragrant dish on the bar counter, he called out to Renee and disappeared back in the kitchen. It was almost morning and he needed sleep. Badly.

However, he needed a glass of warmed milk first. As he took a long draught, his mind began wandering. By his calculations in the showers earlier, the media should not have found out about the disappearance of the princess so quickly.

Did Royscott President tip them off? Or someone else who placed the GPS? But it would not benefit the company with all the bad publicity on their infamously secretive family. Could it be that someone else found the scene and tipped the media off? Wasn't the area cordoned off by the Special Ops? Were they too conspicuous?

Punk shook his head at the dead ends he was getting at.

Someone...someone else...not the Royscott family...he or she is watching us very closely and found something at the scene to prove to the press that the Royscott quiet girl is in trouble. Most likely someone familiar with police work. But who and why? There are too many questions.

A sudden burst of light in the living room drew his attention. Violet the automatic television only alert him of important events which he had programmed a specific parameter to.

"This is Rush Hour Live. I am currently standing in Auxcel's lobby as the new President planned to usher his official entrance to the business world with his press conference on future directions of Auxcel," a male reporter with drooping eyes spoke outside a double frosted glass doors.

From Royscott to Auxcel, the world is spinning too slow for this stock giants. Punk smacked his lips as he gulped down a last mouth of milk.

"...Auxcel President Shusuke Auxcel will also be addressing the issue on the acquisition of the controversial medicine company, Elixir. Elixir has been under fire for the past decade on cruel animal testing and illegal drug trials..." the reporter continued in the background.

Reaper's mother was right. Reaper would have been a better candidate for Auxcel's presidency. But I am glad he chose me, Team 127, the Law Enforcement over the dirty world of money. Justice desperately need perfect balance of brains and brawns like him, Punk gave it a careful review.

"Well, don't tell me you hate eggs too?" Punk lazily enquired his guest without bothering to turn to look at her. He reached out for a first aid box beneath the basin and unintentionally slammed it on the bar counter.

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Posted 5/29/14 , edited 7/27/14

Renee looked up at Punk, startled at his sudden question. She was bewildered with his constant change of attitude - she was very confused with what he'd said to her. Renee's eyes dropped down to the tamagoyaki laid before her eyes. How did he know that she hadn't take a bite when he barely look at her?

His question was out of the world. Who would hate eggs? Renee poked the tamagoyaki with the fork, she liked egg - in fact she love eating them.

But she was allergic to mirin sauce.

She felt bad if she doesn't eat it up - he had put some effort to cook it, although he was rude with her but he took the initiative to actually make her a proper meal. She decided to not spill the beans then, she didn't want him to add more hurtful remarks. She just need to dash off fast before he even realise anything is wrong. She had enough with him, picking on her mistakes. As hungry as she was, she swept clean the entire egg into her mouth. She took the greatest courage ever to swallow them down the throat.

She stood up, made her way to the kitchen and washed the plate before coming to an eye contact with him. With a slight cough, she headed to the door.

"You know my status in the high society, so I believe you know you're nothing to me. Don't try to threaten me....I'm not afraid. Even if I do feel afraid, with just one word I can still eliminate you off that position anytime I want and you'll never be able to find me", she said - her voice as cold as ice. "That marks a difference between you and I but......".

She does not often show strangers her real persona - that one cheerful and full of emotions girl, who would often do things that others hardly expects. Just when she started to open up to him - thinking he is her first friend in the new city, he slammed the barrier back onto her face. Hard. It hurts her - a lot. Since he played bully with her, she will mirror it. That was the only way she know to protect herself from getting hurt.

"Rest assured, Mr. Officer," Renee continued as she opened the door. She had enough, she couldn't be bothered to act coldly to him - it wasn't her character but it sure comes in handy when she wanted to keep that person away. It seems to her that she can never make friend with a police officer - they're too mighty for her kind. "My family had not file any law suit against the police workforce. They will never do so either. Just like how much you're afraid it'll affect your position, that's how afraid my family are in regards to exposing my identity. But I will look into the matter and keep you happy. Of course my grandpa would reward you handsomely to know you saved me, and I will speak good of you. And so I am done repaying you. I owe you nothing and we're even now."

She looked back into the studio, in case she left anything behind. She unconsciously held up her fist to hide her small coughs. Her cheeks were burning light pink.

"And clearly you do not have much experience with girls to say I was making a girlish plead? And what puppy eyes? For your information , Mr. Know-It-All, I'm a sucker at that and I am definitely not pleading - I was merely asking. Don't assume every girl uses the same boring old-fashioned way to melt a guy's heart - and who would want to melt your heart? Not me. I just want to be friends with you......but it's fine I get it. You don't make friends with commoners. Besides I don't pass as 'girlish' at all! I do wear rather lady-like but don't judge a book by its cover and.... if you're so unhappy to house me, then you could have just drop me off at Royscott Hotel! It'll save your time and my time and your reputation! Don't keep me in just so you can ask me to repay you. No one does good deed in hope for some return!" Tears was getting to Renee as she ranted it all out. She was disliking this man more now. He was still rude, nothing changed. She felt wrongfully accused as if she was the core of all the problems they are facing.

"So thank you, Mr. Officer! Good luck to your work and hope we won't see each other again!!!!!" Her tone was harsh - full of annoyance. Although her coughs were constantly coming in between her words, she made an effort to keep it all cool. "I will pretend I don't know you, pretend we'd never met and I'd never bring you troubles!!!! Goodbye!"

And she slammed the door. Her dislike for him grew strong, it was etched on her face.

Renee ran off in tears as her coughs comes more rapidly now, she had never felt this annoyed before - annoyed to the point that she actually raised her voice. She had no idea why she'd disliked him since the first time they met. He was rude, too mighty. It was as if he'd been hurting her heart since very very long ago.

Once outside in the city again, Renee felt the sudden cold chill. The sun had barely rise and yet she was out. Renee dug into the pocket of her dress to search for some money - empty. She sighed. She was feeling really down, and needed to forget all fast. And she needed her asthma pill - one that she takes whenever her allergy attacks.

Taking up the phone, she dialed a number.

"Keith.... you heard the news?" She said softly, coughing a little in between. "Yeah.... sorry.....but I need your help. I'm in front of Vista Ville...."

Her breathing rate increased - she was desperately grasping for air, Keith could tell through the phone. Her allergy attacked. She need him. Wearing his jacket and grabbing a bottle of her special asthma pills of the table (he had one at home), he headed to the door.

"Wait for me! I'll be right there!"

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Posted 5/31/14 , edited 6/6/14

"Wow. The archetypical Princess of High Society," Punk seemed a little surprised at her tone. "Ah, Reaper. It seems you are so different from them. Only you and I know the true winners in dragging someone to dirt is the one with nothing to lose. Nothing to lose."

Punk's eyelids started to feel heavy and he left the dirty dishes on the table for a better option - to collapse on the barely comfortable sofa. Strange memories started flashing through his mind and he felt his heartstrings tugged. He clenched his left side of the shirt and tried to ease the pain with unnecessary tossing on the wide sofa. His mind began wandering off to a wide field of daisies in a far away land, his homeland. There were random inflictions of pain and his mind whirred to reality. Feeling dizzy, he tried to reach the underside of the sofa. His weak condition proved an obstruction as he fell to the floor, agonizing. His vision blurred into whites and greys. The last thing he heard was a loud click of a clip unlatched.

"Sir, your morning regime is about to begin..." Violeta the android housekeeper announced flatly and a shiny rapier encased in glass was automatically slid through a gap in the wall.

It was one in the bleak afternoon. The droning of machines and murmurs of police officers in postprandial somnolence showed no signs of the carnival which happened that morning. It was as if the trampling of dignity by the relentless reporters never happened. The only reminder of the event laid on the desk of Team 127's leader. Reaper and his colleagues entered the office as the minute hand moved to the roman numeral one on the wall. The blinking orange LED light on the monitor of their boss indicated an urgent message. However, the receiver was nowhere to be found. Reaper was convinced there should be more than just a warning letter for the stunt his reckless leader pulled the night before. Doubtful Reaper approached Creamer (who was in charge of filing) purposefully, his patrol uniform starkly contrasting to the casually dressed staff. Creamer looked up with his droopy eyes and pushed his owl glasses upwards. They exchanged looks of mind reading and Creamer quickly cut across Reaper's inquiry.

"Hey officer. I did nothing yet. More like I had nothing to do. Punk was off the higher-ups' hit list the moment I put a call through the superintendent's assistant. I am just as curious as you are."

Reaper opened and closed his mouth. He nodded his understanding and returned to his table amid the glances of his colleagues. Something felt out of place. On the hand, with Punk's deposition intact, he turned his attention to his own emails. There was one sent with high importance. Emails to his boss Punk would bounce to his email if Punk was not in the office by one. It was a system created by Pan to ensure that all high priority emails should be reviewed promptly by the right-hand man. This system was implemented in every Team 127 member so everyone was paired up. Punk and Reaper were paired up naturally. The sender was Hexane.

"Your insight was spot-on. Only 50% of the drugs were Methamphetamine. The reports from the lab rats were troubling. Unidentifiable compounds were found. They were not by-products of impure Methamphetamine production. Analysis is ongoing. KIV," the email read out in Reaper's bluetooth.

Reaper reread the email. It was disturbing news - Punk's intense dislike for the drug in his preliminary analysis turned out to be indicating a new substance not on the already-extensive police database. The case just became deeper. Reaper rose from his seat when the door of the small office burst open.

"Bring me that Punk!" Team CSI's leader hollered in anguish, flanked by his stern team members.

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Posted 5/31/14 , edited 6/1/14

Renee woke up to the beautiful aroma scent of coffee filling in the air. She looked around, trying to recall how she ended up here. She was surrounded by wooden cabinets of books - it looked like a Vintage library to her. She was lying on a sofa right below a window with the white lace curtain swinging with rhythm to the cool September wind blowing in. She recalled leaving Punk's place with a heavy heart and calling Keith. But she had no recollection of that after.

Renee also recalled ranting out on Punk - her saviour. She hoped they could be friends but it all seemed impossible. She can't tolerate rude man, she was a vulnerable person deep down. She had been living a humdrum life until she met him and since then, her life had been running in a fast pace.

"Are you feeling better now?" a voice broke into her thoughts. Renee looked up to find Keith smiling at her, with a cup of hot cocoa in his hand.

Renee nodded and took the hot cocoa from his hands. Keith gestured her out of the wooden cabinets, into a cafe area. The welcome scent of coffee wafts through the air, calling to her weary legs to come take a rest. A wooden table reflects the sun, almost blinding Renee for a second. Though it was an indoor cafe, the sunlight crept into the space - bringing the cafe to life. As she took a seat, she found herself surrounded by mountains of plastic and paper bags which hold the contents of guilt ridden peoples’ shopping. They were taking a break from spending money they don’t have. The sun had heated the chair and it feels comforting and warm. Keith looked around for a waitress; the need for caffeine was consuming his mind.

A waitress teetered over in a mini kimono that leaves nothing to the imagination. Her heels are so impractical for someone who will be on their feet all day, but she knew they make her legs look amazing. Renee took solace in the fact that her feet will be aching later. Renee raised her gaze to the waitress's face. She has too much make up on and Renee doubted she can even remember the natural colour of her hair. The waitress pulled a pencil from behind her ear and went through the routine questions she asks every customer that visits the cafe.

Renee placed an order and turned back to face Keith - who was now grinning cheekily. Renee raised an eyebrow. What so funny?

"How could you, Renee!!" the high-pitched voice of the waitress echoed into Renee's ears. Renee looked up at her again - confused. The girl looked a lil mad. "Can't you recognise me?"

Renee blinked. Her head was spinning from the earlier incident and although she was feeling much better, she could barely pass as perfectly fine. Slowly, Renee noticed the familiar feature of her face and that voice of the girl.

"Junko?" Renee stood up, astonished. It had been nearly 6 years since she last met Junko after their high school graduation. She knew Junko shifted after the graduation, but she never know she shifted to this nation. Meeting her best friend again brought a smile to her face. "Why! You coloured your black hair and changed a lot! How do you expect me to recognise you?"

Renee turned to Keith and added," You never tell me Junko's here with you!"

Junko rolled her eyes and hugged Renee happily.

"It was meant to be a surprise. I had wanted to surprise you - appearing in front of you with a glass of iced mocha. But instead, you surprised me - coming in unconscious because you consume mirin again!"

"Yeah, I don't understand," Keith added. "What are you doing there? What's with the news reported earlier? What happened yesterday?"

Renee pulled back from the hug she shared with Junko and looked at Keith with her infamous confused look. "I ....uhh.... lost my bag. And things happened. Long story but it all passed. Everything's cool now."

"But you have your phone with you! You could have at least answer my call!" Keith was worried - Renee could tell.

"I misplaced it at my friend's place after your call.... I had to return to Vista Ville to claim it....after I lost my bag," Renee hoped her answer sounded convincing enough. She was not born to be a good liar - but she knew she had to comply with her brother's story. Keith and Junko exchanged glances - her story sounded perfectly plausible.

"And that friend serves you something cooked with mirin? That's so..... nice of that friend" Junko sounded sarcastic - to which Renee brushed it off.

"He doesn't know....." Renee's voice softened - her minds drifted off to Punk. She smiled a little at the soft bed and delicious tamagoyaki he prepared. Not to forget the moment she saw him appearing in the middle of the forest - to be honest her heart skipped a beat at that. But... he was too complicating. His mood swings fast, and Renee was afraid to get into his territory.

Junko and Keith stared at Renee - she was uncharacteristically blushing a little. Keith pouted in a little jealousy and broke the silence with a shove of papers onto Renee's face.

"Your contract. Sign it and you'll be a part of High Tree Entertainment," he said with a smile. Renee's eyes widened in joy. Her dream to be an official music composer was just right before her eyes. After a thorough check on the contract, Renee signed it.

"And with this, your utaite* status remained, not having the need to expose your look. We will create your own avatar and we should work on your first album soon," Keith's voice was filled with excitement. He had been waiting for the chance to work with Renee, or her alias QianXue. "What would you name your first album?"

Renee smiled. She had the idea since long ago - even since before she started out as QianXue. She had always unconsciously hoped to distribute her own album with that title.


* Utaite
**A Tale of Thousand Years Snow
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Posted 6/1/14 , edited 8/3/14

Punk shifted slightly for comfort , blinking himself awake. The dim-lit room gave him enough time to adjust his sight. He felt something amiss and swept the room in a rapid eye motion. The room had logs as walls and roughly chopped wooden ceiling. The smell of pine was dense in the cottage-like room with a single window revealing the starry skies of the night. Punk sat up slowly on the four-poster bed. This was not how he last remembered his apartment. Despite the change in environment, Punk felt at ease when he recalled a place like this. A small oil lamp near the framed door was the only source of light. Punk could hear some murmurs originating from behind the door curtains. He lightly got off the bed and tip-toed cautiously to listen in. The voices were familiar.

"Doctor, how is his recovery judging from these images?" the bass-toned Reaper could be heard enquiring.

There was a sigh of worry and an elder male voice replied in raised voice, "I have mentioned it before and then again. This is the last straw, Grim. (Punk pressed his ear against the door frame anxiously at the improbable addressing of Reaper) This boy cannot keep coming back to me in this state. I am no deity of miracle, Grim! I cannot tell when I will even see him alive again next time!"

There was a shifting of chairs and Reaper lowered his voice to an uncharacteristically gentle one.

"I am sorry, Doctor. None of us wanted to have his case come to that again. Please help me. He would not listen to me any more! You are the only one who understands us best. I have considered your suggestion from the last time. This time, help me, no, us make the decision. The therapy he needs-"

"Will be nothing," Punk appeared from behind the curtains, finishing Reaper's sentence.

His eyes were in flames as he could no longer sit quietly in his room.

"I am fine. This will not happen again, Doctor," Punk turned to the elderly man in white coat resolutely.

"Punk! This is your future we are talking about!" Reaper stood up from his half kneeling position. "Do you even know the state I found you in just now? You weren't breathing! You need this therapy!"

"No! I don't!" Punk shouted abruptly, silencing everyone in the Doctor's office. He paused to breathe deeply, a technique in calming his nerves.

"I am fine. Everything is fine. I just need some rest."

Reaper stepped forward, enforcing his burliness on the compact Punk. Reaper stared him down the same way he did on Team CSI leader. Punk stood back but his defensive stance was apparent.

"Punk. This is not open for discussion. Today's collapse just showed us all your limits."

"This is my body, Reaper. Mine," Punk emphasized on the last syllabus vehemently.

The teething rage in both man was dangerously hinting at a violent end. Sensing the danger, the elderly doctor raised himself from his chair prominently.

"Gentlemen," he sang out. "Time out now. Let us be civil and get some food to chow down first. I am sure we are all hungry from today's event."

The doctor leaned on his chair and reached out for an umbrella before leaving the office in an unsteady gait. Breathing hard, Reaper left after the doctor in silence while Punk returned to his room to grab his belongings. There was not much to get - Reaper seemed to have gotten him out of the apartment in a rush to forget Punk's handphone. Keys jingling in his pockets, Punk shut the doors to join his two saviours at the spacious cottage kitchen for supper. The doctor smiled kindly as Punk took a seat furthest from the fuming Reaper. The old man tottered over to serve some bread and jam. He sighed as he sat heavily on the mahogany dining chair.

"Punk. You might not want to listen to me either but I need to say this - this seizure will happen again if you keep doing you-know-what. And I will say no more," the old man tried tiredly to get across to the ignorant Punk. "You need to rest more often nevertheless. Otherwise, I think you are free to leave. And Reaper, you will have to keep a closer eye on him no matter how much disagreements you two have. I cannot be here forever, you two goons."

The peeved old man was up way past his bed times to be more patient than this. He got up abruptly and headed for his comfortable bed upstairs. Reaper and Punk avoided eye contact as they ate their snacks. Punk was the first to break the silence after supper.

"Thank you," he spoke in a small voice. "But I am stronger than you think."

Reaper simply shrugged his shoulders and washed the dishes. Punk tried again.

"Any news to report?"

"Tomorrow. I am hitting the sack," Reaper replied shortly and he too, left for his makeshift bed in the living room.

Punk fell silent and left the cottage for a breather. The night breeze licked his cheeks and he look around the serene forests of the Southern Region of the Eastern nation. This was the home to a wealthy, retired coroner of the Law Enforcement as well as their confidant. Reaper and Punk were his sole living visitors. The elderly doctor preferred the peace of his lodgings in his retirement. Too much unnecessary noise pollution, the elderly doctor often commented on the cities and suburbs. Punk had no complaint on the doctor's decision to live in such inconvenient area - it served as an escape for Reaper and Punk when time moved too fast. The doctor had often complained of their continuous presence but had a garage built for Reaper's car. The weather turned chilly as twilight approaches. Punk wrapped his arms and retreated to the warm cottage. He did not notice a glint of a lens in the shrubs.

When all was quiet in the woods, static was heard behind the shrubs.


"Target relocked."

"keep your distance."

"Roger that," and the lens was stashed away.

The next sunrise awakened the sleepy forest and birds got to their morning routine of food gathering and alarm sounding. Punk rubbed his eyes as a magpie knocked on the glass window near his bed.


He joined the other male occupants of the house at breakfast after a quick shower. Reaper was silent as usual but made impatient gesture at getting the day started with his purring Audi. Punk hugged the grumbling old doctor and left in the Audi. The quiescent journey was completed when they reached the lobby of Vista Ville. Punk watched as the Audi drove out of the driveway without much of a back look by its driver. Slightly disappointed, Punk ignored the lift and ascended the stairs to his studio apartment on the thirtieth floor. His warm-up was done when he reached the entrance of his apartment. His prized possession - a shiny, ancient rapier - hung off the wall. He drew it out from the glass case and positioned himself in an offensive stance. As sunlight burst into the living room at the timely opening of blinds, Punk manoeuvred a lunge with a swish of his sword and neat footwork, fighting his imaginary opponent while blinded. He only stopped his mandatory morning regime an hour later. Perspiring profusely, he reached out for his headset and listened in to Ace's and Reaper's reports.

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Posted 6/1/14 , edited 8/16/14

Renee had spent the new day strolling down the street, with the guidebook in her hands. She was slowly getting the hang of the city as she slowly recognised the roads and shops around. In her most casual outfit of white shirt with rolled up sleeves and jeans, a smile was visible on her fair face. She had always think that a smile is the best accessory one can ever have.

She walked out of the well-lit, peaceful, cool air-conditioned comfort of the book shop. Immediately she was hit by a blast of hot air from the street. Wow, the difference is so great!

Out on the five-foot way, she broke into a sweat. Renee shuddered, she knew the weather of September changes from time to time. It would be hot at one moment, and then cold the next. Renee loved the city, still.

Next to the book shop were two sundry shops. The smell emanating from these shops tingles her nose. The mixture of onion, garlic, dried fish, pepper and spices make a potent combination. Renee held her breath for a moment as she quickly walked past the sundry shops. She was wondering how the people working inside the shops can stand the smell. Perhaps they are used to it.

There were many people walking along the five-foot ways on both sides of the street. It was about one o’clock in the afternoon and many office-workers were out for their lunch break. Renee smiled as she overlooked the smartly dressed men and women hurrying towards the eating places further down the street.

The street had been made one-way some time ago to cater for the ever increasing traffic volume. Lunch hour finds the street uncrossable but she wanted to cross to the other side. She looked at the traffic - one look tells her that it was too dangerous to do so. The cars and motorcycles were moving at considerable speeds and they did not seem to be in the mood to make way for any pedestrian. Renee decided to cross the street via the lights-controlled crossing down the street.

On her way towards the crossing she passed many other shops. They were mainly shops selling clothes, shoes and watches. Near the crossing is a supermarket. Throngs of people can be seen at the entrance. A beggar sat on the steps, arms outstretched and eyes leading for alms - he also stinks of cheap liquor. Renee dropped $5 into his unwashed palm and smiled at him. Walking away, the beggar thanked Renee. Renee simply waved at him - she couldn't help but pity him. And wished she could do something more to help those in need.

The Royscott Corporation had projects involving charitable events - all chaired by the ever mysterious princess of the company. Renee was borne with a sense of just, and a heart to help those in need. Something her grandfather believed to be a trait of the past, he was very confident with that. Under her projects, orphanages; old folks' home and low-cost clinics were built in favour of the poor and needy.

It's time to think of something for the vagrants....

Reaching the crossing, Renee stopped to wait with a group of people as the lights were red. Cars sped by sending their obnoxious fumes into the waiting people. However no one flinches. A bit of smoke was not going to prevent anyone from crossing the street.

Presently the cars screeched to a halt behind the white lines across the road except for one that makes a dash past even though the lights have changed to red for him. Some pedestrians shook their fists, but no one was hit. The pedestrians were too seasoned to trust the traffic lights completely.

Renee blinked at the event and crossed briskly with the group to the other side. Once across she made a bee-line for the bus-stand. There were too many people trying to crowd under the shade of the stand. There was no place for her, but it didn't stop Renee from feeling the normal life - so she stood under the sun instead.

The smell of food wafted over to the bus stand from the food stalls nearby. Renee's stomach growled in response. The bus came and Renee boarded it with several other people. There were no more seats available and so Renee stood on the aisle. It was her first time to experience the normal life of the public. Soon the bus picked up speed and leaves the busy street towards where her lunch awaits.

"You're late!" Junko shrieked the moment Renee took a step into Rosewood Cafe. Renee adjusted her glasses and smiled. It was rare for any one to see her outside with glasses on - but Renee decided to go casual today. "You're supposed to come at 12 o'clock!"

"I'm trying to memorise the place..." Renee answered with a poke onto Junko's pouting cheeks. "You can't blame a newbie like me."

Junko rolled her eyes. "You came in the wrong time though. I'm busy now if you can see it's lunch time now and we're flooded with customers and we're running out of hands... "

"Guess you could need some help then," Renee added as she took a PDA from the counter. "I'll help out in trade for a lunch set."

Renee winked at her friend and strolled into the busy cafe. Junko stared after Renee as the latter fluently made her way to the customers. There were chatters and giggles roaming round. Renee was a good host - she could catch the hearts of both sexes with her friendliness. Junko pursed her lips - she liked her friend, but at the same time she disliked her. Renee had everything she wanted, badly.

She didn't want Renee to be in the cafe, stealing all the glamour from her. Renee was already attracting a few eyes. Just then, the phone rang - and she jotted the order down. Her eyes flickered to Renee. This will do the trick...

"Renee!" Junko called over the counter. "Our delivery man is currently out. Do you mind delivering this to the customer? He lives in Vista Ville, you should know your way there now."

Apparently Rosewood Cafe offers delivery services. Renee blinked at the request and before she could react, Junko pushed a paper bag of food into her arms and pushed her out. Renee rolled her eyes. She knew her friend well - there could be a rich guy inside the cafe that she wanted to attract.

"And don't come back so soon!"

Taking the paper bag, she strolled out of the cafe and made her way to Vista Ville.

She knew Punk stayed there, but what could the possibilities be to bump onto him again? Reaching the door of the customer's apartment, Renee tilted her head. The corridor of the thirtieth floor looked a little familiar to her. She thought she recognised the beautiful antique vase standing proudly beside the door opposite where she stood now. She scanned the corridor, and shook her head.

Then, she pressed the unsuspecting door bell to apartment 3018.

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Posted 6/2/14 , edited 6/2/14

The owner of 3018 heaved himself heavily from his armchair and strolled excitedly towards the door. He left it unlocked and flung the door open as if he was unwrapping his early Christmas present. He looked down as his visitor but he could hardly see her face. Lifting his bulging tummy, he peered over the fats.

"What? I requested for an extra curvy woman in bondage? Why are you so small and skinny? Where are your toys?" the paunchy man demanded deliriously.

He leaned in and with his beady eyes, he thoroughly examined her features. Nodding, his pudgy hand grabbed the bewildered girl by her small waist, pushing her into his apartment.

"You will do for now until I get my refund," his voice got gruff as he began tearing his shirt apart.

The aroused thirty-something year old man took heavy breaths as he approached his new visitor with wriggling fingers.

Meanwhile, the owner of 3017 was wiping water of his Hispanic light olive skin after a refreshing mint bath. He began draping his nude body with loose white yoga pants and his signature brown overcoat. His style of the day was casually comfortable. Humming a few notes of "Snow in Summer", he strapped his silver Eagle holster to his hips and headed to the messy kitchen for a quick clean up. Little did he know what matter was about to unfold in a moment.

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Posted 6/2/14 , edited 8/23/14

Renee was surprised - she found herself trapped in the middle of nuisance. She didn't think Junko would set her up with such an absurd joke. They joked a lot with one another, and she knew Junko does get a little over the board at times - but she was also sure her friend wouldn't put her in something so dangerous.

"You must have mistaken something," Renee spoke bravely as she held out the paper bag in her trembling hands. "I'm here to deliver your lunch...."

The man sniffed a snort and pushed the paper bag aside. A few bagels dropped out of the bag and a cup of hot latte spilt onto the carpet. Renee watched as the bagel rolled over to the other side of the floor, before turning her gaze back to the lustful man's.

"Don't be a tsundere, or are you actually a masochist?" the old man spoke with a grin and heavy breath as he closed in on Renee. "Don't be afraid, I'll be gentle with you...."

"NO!" Renee pushed him as he got too close and dashed for the door. The man grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms - forcefully hugging her as he ran his hand down her back. Renee struggled hard, tears was coming to her now as she fought hard to protect herself. Renee screamed as the man tore her shirt - a few buttons came off, revealing her deep cleavage in a baby blue bra. The man grinned and continued to fondle her with his lust.

In the moment of panic, she raised a leg and kicked the man - and he fell back onto his sofa. He wasn't mad though, he seemed to enjoy the ferocious kitten instead. Renee pulled the collar of her shirt together and grabbed a remote control in her hands - thinking to use it as a defensive weapon against the sex-craving man. Renee dashed to the door once more and was congratulating herself at reaching the doorknob when the man hugged her waist from behind, pulling her away from her destination.

"I know you enjoy it too, kitty," the man whispered lustfully into her ears, and licked the back of her neck.

She felt useless and incapable of protecting herself. Still, she tried everything she could to free herself. Renee was struggling hard, and she knew her stamina wouldn't keep up long with her. That man was overpowering her.

The crazy event triggered a sudden wave of unfamiliar memories into her mind. Renee could remember that gentle touch of cold yet possessive fingers - as if it was etched in her heart. And a voice stood out to her. The voice sounded so nostalgic as it echoed in her mind - as if she had longed for it for thousands of years. Longed for his touch. Strangely, she missed that voice. Very much.

"There is no safety word tonight. You can't escape. If you call me ...... I will only give pleasure tonight."

Who? Who is that-

And a new emotion took over. Renee winced at the pain she suddenly felt deep in her heart. What was it? She can't tell. As the groovy man started to move his hands up to grope her breasts, Renee screamed in pain and struggled ferociously - even more now. The man was horrified and released her - he was scared that she was under a bad health condition or that she suffered a heart attacked. Renee knelt down and clutched her shirt tight - trying to ease the pain.

"He doesn't love you. He's just using you to get his offspring."

"You're not the only women he slept with."

The voices repeated themselves as they overlapped one another, arousing a storm of confusion in Renee. Renee felt her head spinning around - suffocating much. Her heart was in extreme pain, as if someone had stabbed into her unhealed old wounds repeatedly.

"You mustn't wake up."

A deep voice of a female suddenly broke into the confusing sequence. The pain slowly fades off. Renee, sensing it was her only chance to escape, ran to the door - despite the poor condition she was in. The man - thinking that he had been tricked, quickly make a dash after her.

Renee desperately turn the doorknob - left and right, but it was locked. After a struggle with the door, the door finally opened on her - but before she could escape, Renee was once again heaved off from her escape plan. The man pulled her hair and threw her onto the carpet. He went on top of her and pinned her down - hard. In his hand held a syringe containing aphrodisiac. There was no room for struggle, no chance of escaping. In the spur of a short moment, a wave of fear buried her in. She was afraid, and desperately pray that someone could hear her screams. And her tears came out uncontrollably like a water dam as the man started to lick her long smooth neck.

And the needle of the syringe slowly descended into Renee's arm.


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Posted 6/4/14 , edited 8/23/14

Loud, impatient raps on the door interrupted the aroused man from further adventures. He tried to ignore it but there was angry shouts.

"Shut the hell up, you crazy brat! Go back to your hole!" he bellowed back as the shouts became more insulting.

The shouts died down and the half-naked man returned to his trembling prey. Without warning, his front door came crashing down.

"Mierda. Neighbour, did I not say to open up? I had enough of your disgusting pig sounds early in the day," a dripping, blue hair came swishing across the threshold carrying his calm voice with him.

However, his voice was strongly resembling the oceans with its deep rumbles of underwater volcanoes. The white-pants newcomer cast an inquisitive eye at the messy room and finally, a familiar girl on the floor.

"What is this? I did not know you were also interested in this underworld industry," a lukewarm Punk commented quietly to the girl.

The girl began spluttering incoherently in mixture of rage and confusion.

Feeling out of the loop, the overweight man snatched the vase from the girl and threw it wildly. The vase missed Punk by many arm lengths. Punk merely glanced at the lousy throw with least interest.

"Seriously, man. I am only three feet away from you," Punk said in a sarcastic voice.

"You are breaking and entering! I will sue you! You and your sorry," the man's hollering was filled with profanities. "I don't care if you are a cop! This is my house and my right!"

Punk gritted his teeth and broke into a toothy grin. "Of course, Mr Citizen. You are right. Unless the girl is your willing partner in this revolting endeavour."

"What are you talking about? I paid her for-" the obese man started but was halted at mid-sentence.

A flying roundabout kick made a painful contact with his flabby left cheek as Punk swung his bare right foot. The man was thrown off-balance from his previous kneeling position and crashed excruciatingly into a glass dining table. Shards of glass fell onto his bare skin, scratching him slightly.

"Let me remind you. That was self-defence in the face of dangerous predator," Punk spoke coolly as he swiped his hands unnecessarily.

Turning to the girl on the floor, he looked down obnoxiously at her.

"You better have a good reason for this."

"My goodness! What is with all this racket," an old woman from next door walked into the truly chaotic room. "Didn't I tell you kids to keep it down? My vase is late too to add to my nerves!"

"Ah! Mrs Noir of 3019! Why are you here without your walking stick? This room is too dangerous to walk around!" Punk quickly hurried over to her aid.

"Go away you punk!" she swatted his outstretched hands away. "Get this mess cleaned up! And you, fat kid! Keep your volume down!"

Grumbling incoherently to herself, she totted out of the room, paying no heed to the semi-conscious victim of the 'self-defence'.

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Posted 6/4/14 , edited 6/5/14

Renee pulled her shirt together – looking up at Punk. She hadn’t notice that tears had welled up in her eyes now - she was afraid. She was that close to getting raped, if not for his appearance. The obese man looked up at Punk and showed him his middle finger. He was getting furious at the sudden change of events – much to his dislike. He stood up – trying to balance on his feet and glared at Punk with his infamous killer stare. He was sorely tempted to punch that snobbish cop.

Just then, a rather curvaceous woman, double of Renee’s size came into the apartment. Renee quickly scampered on her feet and hid behind Punk – and sneaked a look at the new figure. The flapper has huge bosom and buttock; slightly tan from the amount of sun she treated herself over the weekends at the beach. She was also very revealing - wearing a thin cloth of singlet and a very short mini skirt.

“Mr. Tsavliris! So sorry! Got caught in the jam and…” The woman trailed off as she looked into the messy room. She blinked and looking at the two men (and the girl), she pieced the event together. The sexy woman smiled in excitement as her eyes fell on Punk. “What’s going on here? You didn't tell me you’re throwing a foursome party!”

The man sniffed a snort and stared at his usual cup of tea, before looking at the spilt latte on the carpet and then at Renee. His eyes widened a little at the late conclusion he was landing on. He was very close at raping the kitten. With the cop keeping tag on him now, he flushed in a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“You’d caused me enough trouble, bitch,” he exclaimed from between his breath. The flapper rolled her eyes and strolled towards Punk with a smile as she curled her arms around his – pressing her bosom against his skin, trying to seduce him with her gorgeous-shaped body.

“YOU!” the man shouted in a hoarse voice, as he looked at the three strangers in his private space. “Why didn't you tell me you’re from Rosewood Café, trying to deliver my lunch?”

Renee shook her head, “I did…but you weren't listening.”

She emphasized on the first two words with strong defensive tone, and softened into a whisper as she stole a surreptitious glance at Punk – who turned his head a little to look at the girl who was hiding behind him. She was trembling – even more now since she knew she’d got into another trouble with the officer.

“Then what are you waiting for!? LEAVE! Both of you!” The man couldn't keep his temper anymore.

Without a word, Punk pulled Renee out of the goddamn place and brought her back to his apartment. The tight grip on her upper arm made her winced. Once back at the familiar apartment of 3017, Renee stood in the middle of the living room as she faced Punk - with his arms crossed firmly in front of him. Renee looked down and fiddled with her fingers – pinching each of her finger tips; it was a habit of hers when she got nervous or really scared.

They stood there motionless for some time, and Renee couldn't help but draw her eyes up to see his expression every few seconds. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she kept them in from falling out.

“I am still waiting.”

Renee bit her lips. What else can she explain to him? What else can she say? She will always be at fault for all he believes, explaining wouldn't change a thing. He will always be rude and probably jump to untrue conclusion about her. Or maybe it was a work habit he incorporated into his daily lives?

“I….am not like what you think or see me to be…” was all she said softly. Her tone clearly tells that she was to break down soon. She couldn't hide it, she was at her limit. Clutching the collar of her shirt - hiding the view of her cleavage (and a small sight of her bra), she added, “Excuse me; I need to go to the bathroom.”

She dashed to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Leaning against the door, her tears rolled down uncontrollably as she trembled in fear. She looked into the mirror, at the spot the lustful man had licked. Disgusted, she scratched the spots with her nails and washed them with water. She was in trauma.

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Posted 6/6/14 , edited 8/30/14

Nemus stormed into his office and his subordinates' laughter disappeared as quick as death. He fumed as he looked over the heads which have busied themselves by sticking to their paperwork or computer. How incompetent, he thought vehemently. Those NB brats are going to laugh at us at this rate!

He shouted at several people before slamming the door of his private office. Unlike the narcotics bureau, Team CSI enjoyed larger office space and superiors are treated over the top with special benefits. Nemus never understood Team 127's leadership style. A leader must be affirmative and authoritative! Not some flim-flam wishy-washy kid!

Nemus reached out for a hidden bottle of painkillers in his corner drawer. The recent events had taken a toll on him. First, his assistant-demoted-to-coffee-girl Rina had informed him that the Superintendent had personally decided for Team 127 to take over the lead. Then, he had a humiliating staring competition with the beast Reaper who refused him entry to Punk's quarters. That morning, despite his efforts to dissuade his superiors, Punk managed to keep his position. Nemus chewed hard on his painkillers while gritting his teeth. How much more shame can he take?

The biggest blow was to find out Team 127, namely Punk, had rounded up all members of Underdog single-handedly. Reaper even beat him to interrogating all the useless thugs. When Nemus finally had his turn, the thugs had learned not to talk.

Only a loose-lipped Underdog Boss said smugly,"have you police nothing better to do than repeat questions? You are putting your nose in places you cannot handle. Do you think my organisation is that simple? No deals from you can save us now. Their roots reach deep. It's only a matter of time before I die under their hands so you can do no harm to us. We are all goners."

It was then that Nemus realised he was too late - only the infamous interrogator Reaper held information critical to solving the case first. And Nemus swore never to bow to Team 127. As if the situation was not bad enough, Team CSI had a new case and was ordered to leave the old case to Team 127.

"Never! I will not leave this case to some half-wits! This is CSI's case!" he bellowed at his cowering right-hand man. "My sweat and blood will not go to waste. We are pursuing this case. Hell with 127! Get me a line to Narcotics Bureau!"

The heedless Punk had collapsed on his Zen sofa. The ringing in her ears had led him to make some regrettable choice since the kitchen clean-up. He wondered how he was going to manoeuvre his way out of hurting his neighbour in front of his superiors who were already watching him for the kidnapping case). Then, he became extremely mean to the victim.

I hate the sight of her, he concluded. She reminds me of the past too much.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and clasped his hands over face, groaning. The distressing ringing was getting deafening. He tried to lie in different positions but nothing could ease the pain.

"You should retire," a familiar voice of an old doctor floated into his consciousness.

"I am still in my prime! I have just been appointed Chief!" Punk recalled himself arguing with the exact words.

The old man's disappointed sigh was audible. "Punk, your health is deteriorating too quickly for someone as young as you."

I know, Punk cried out silently. I already know that. And no one else but us should know that.

The ringing subsided slowly as Punk took deep breaths, still crouched in his position. He peeked in the direction of the bathroom. The undercover singer was still hiding in there. As Punk's mind cleared, he habitually called out for a time check. Ace the Android flashed a hologram clock. He grumbled at possibly turning up late for work. Dragging his feet to the kitchen, he popped a few painkillers and began pounding on the bathroom door.

"Hey, kid," he burped out as he had intermittent water gulps. "We need to talk."

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Posted 6/6/14 , edited 6/10/14

Back at Rosewood Cafe, the number of customers eventually reduced into a single digit as the lunch time passed on. It was a daily routine for Junko to expect so, and she thanked a few part timers who only turn up during lunch time to help her out. Otherwise, it would usually be her; the baker and his two assistants; the full time waitress and the barista. It was the last week of September and Junko reassured them that she would bank in their salary by the 30th.

As the part timers left, Junko held out a piece of paper with scribbled handwriting on it. She smiled at the appointed date - she was more than happy when that rich guy set his eyes on her, and eventually asked her out for a dinner. She was glad she made the right choice of sending Renee to deliver the food. Junko then came to her realisation as she quickly took a glance at the time.

"Where is Renee?" She found her question asked by another voice. Turning around, she found Keith leaning forward over the counter with a smile.

"I'd sent her out to run a chore for me," she replied - her tone changed to a concern. "But that was 3 hours ago.... she should be back by now."

Keith rolled his eyes and took out his phone. "She's probably lost or run into something? You shouldn't have send her out, she's not one of your regular part timers... she's the princess of Royscott for heaven's sake!"

Junko felt her cheeks burned a little as she glared at Keith. He swiped a contact number and pressed his phone against his ears. He waited patiently for Renee to answer the call but unfortunately, Renee had set it to silent mode.

Keith looked down at the screen as he redrew it from his ears. "That girl must be taught to answer the call! She's always acting her own way too much!"

"She'll be fine! For all I know, she's really different and stranger than those girly typical rich girls that sometimes people wouldn't think that this Renee comes from the high society. She's just a little weird to fit into the picture," Junko commented sarcastically. "And if anything do happen to her, her grandfather has all the money to spend on her. I mean tell me, who gets one hundred thousand dollar as allowance per week? And that girl didn't care to use it and keep begging her grandfather to reduce the sum just so she could be normal!"

"You're just jealous. Can't you care about her? She's your so claimed best friend."

"I do care."

Junko gave him a slight 'hmph' and turned her back to him, her mind drifted off - thinking to get herself a new dress and heels for the date. Maybe one set from Jimmy Choo.

Meanwhile, Renee was pressing her ears against the toilet door to catch a grip on the situation outside. She thought she heard some groans and swift noises. She jumped when Punk knocked on the door - hard and impatiently. His voice was slightly harsher too. Renee knew it then that she'd got herself another round of troubles.

She sighed; she could imagine Punk rudely commenting on her. Renee shook her head and adjusted her glasses. She reminded herself to stay still and accept all comments, then apologise for everything and take her leave.

"Yes it's going to be fine, Xiao Xue."

Renee recalled a certain phrase. Clutching her shirt, she nervously opened the door and took a step into the living room. Punk was standing opposite her now, but Renee didn't dare to look up at him.

"Before you say anything... allow me to apologise for everything. I am sorry for being mean yesterday and for getting into trouble. I don't think you'll ever like me, but I don't want to make enemies with anyone.... and I will be responsible, it's my fault if you're to be questioned by your superiors."

Renee remembered his threat. She can't escape if anything he did not desire work against his favour.

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Posted 6/8/14 , edited 6/9/14

Vein popping on his forehead, Punk breathed in deeply and noisily before raising his voice unsteadily.

"Lil' bunny...Make up your mind! If you hate me, show it! Stop with all the insincere apologising! You have been at it since Day 1! If you want to survive, get off the damn fence! To hell if you cannot tolerate harshness! This is the world you chose to run to instead of the cotton candy cage of your family!" Punk could not help but yell at her.

He felt his insides boiling. He knew he lacked Reaper's cool attitude and the previous Chief's unreadable expression. Emotions often cloud his judgement. This spoilt lady deserved none of my anger displacement, he thought. However, her attitude is starting to irritate me. I hate carrying weights and a clueless one even more so.

Like a bolt, a sharp pain tinged in his temple.

"Argh," he muffled his sound behind his fist and turned away.

The pain disappeared as quickly as it came. He could no longer face his victim any more. Instead, he chose to speak with his back against her, allowing her only a glance of his side profile hidden partly by his mop of cyan-highlighted blue hair.

"I am going to be late for work if we don't get a move on. And I am sure your guardians are worried. I don't want anyone storming into my private apartment," he spoke sternly. "Gather your stuff. I am going to drop you off at your place."

Tapping his headset lightly, he said in an undertone, "Ace, prep my moped."

In the carpark next to the building, a soft whirring in the two-wheeled vehicles' parking lot indicated an aerodynamic machine coming to life. The white automobile of the future generation had thick, white spokes surrounded by contrasting black tires. The protruding treads and narrow grooves of the abnormally large wheels synonymous of Jeep's were retrofitted to the moped's narrow glossy, silver mudguard. Unlike a regular moped, the fuel tank was hidden within double circular, black frames which surrounds the driver's seat and handlebars. The long, curved white cushioned seat reimbursed the missing luggage carrier. Punk's moped looked strangely like two wheels attached to a cylindrical can on its sides. From afar, street walkers could only see three circles of black and white swerving through the traffic jam. The moped was built to utilise maximum energy efficiency and hence, making it an ideal fast getaway vehicle.

As the moped drifted slowly to the lift entrance of the parking lot without a driver, a black Honda Civic flicked its headlights on and tailed the moped inconspicuously. It parked swiftly in a narrow lot when the moped halted.

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Posted 6/8/14 , edited 9/1/14

Renee was speechless. Her eyes basically widened in surprise - at the harsh comments Punk threw at her. She looked down as he walked away to get ready for work, grabbing some item what not. He was right, she wouldn't deny the fact. Though he was really rude, even more than the others she'd came upon before but he was also very different. For once Renee found some sense in the words a rude man said - in what Punk said.

Renee childishly thought that by leaving her family's ground - and by flying back to where she was born and live independently, she could be normal. But only now she realised she was wrong. She had yet to experience a real normal life. She had been naive - too naive.

Renee took off her glasses and kept it in her pocket (she doesn't need to wear it anyway). She waited by the door as Punk made a last check on his apartment. Thoughts flooded in that moment - she thought about them thoroughly. She had been in the comfort zone of her family for too long, it was probably the time she face the reality and learn to embrace everything including those that she had childishly avoided. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all. It can never always stay sweet and cute - especially when Renee wanted so much to escape from it.

But had I been insincerely apologising? Renee tilted her head in confusion. Only then it hit Renee hard, that she had indeed apologised more than anything else. Every time they met, the word 'sorry' never leave her sentences.

And do I hate him? The question she asked herself put a pause to all her other thoughts. She didn't know either. It was an undeniable truth that Renee disliked rude people - but there was something to Punk that made it confusing for Renee to digest. She couldn't bring herself to hate him. It was also true that Punk's attitude offended Renee a lot - she even felt like biting him at one time, but when she saw him again and again, the sight of him melted everything else - and Renee wanted to try to cut off the barrier between them. She wanted to know him more - to be friends with him. There was such a curiosity in her - one that she'd never experienced before.

I is time to get out from my comfort zone, Renee thought. She doubted she could change her habit fast, but she was pretty good at adapting to new environment.

"Yes yes it's time," a jingle voice echoed in her mind - surprising Renee. It turned into a long giggle - one that she found familiar. "I finally found you, Helusen's princess. It's not easy to detect your aura when you're in the comfort zone of that old man. Step out and let me in you. It's time you expose your lust."

Renee searched for the voice but everything was pitch-black. Renee spun around, when had she drifted off into her dreams? She couldn't recall falling asleep nor passing out.

The giggling voice vanished as a loud sound distracted Renee - bringing her attention back into reality. She turned to face Punk - who now stood beside her as he opened the door and took a step out. Renee blinked and looked around her - she was back. What was that? Was that another wild imagination of hers?

"Can you please hurry up? We don't have much time to waste," Punk bitterly commented. Renee followed suit and tagged behind him. It was awkward silence between them as they took the elevator. Punk didn't bother to look at her. Renee, on the other hand, couldn't keep her mind off the disturbing voice of an unknown gender.

They soon came to the parking lot. Seeing the moped, Renee gasped in amusement. She blinked - though a moped, it had a sleek yet beautiful design of a future generation of auto mobiles. She thought it looked pretty cool too.

Keith would love this kind of cool bike..... she thought with a small smile.

As Renee was busy admiring the design of the vehicle, a white helmet was thrown in her direction - which she caught just in time before it hit her head.

"Get on."

Only then Renee realised, she was to ride the moped. She was not good with motorbikes and vehicles built for fast speed - but it was an order she couldn't reject. Swallowing her fear in, she straddled the moped - settling herself behind Punk. She secured her hands on his shoulders after wearing the helmet - she'd never wrapped her arms around the biker's waist, not even with Keith.
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Posted 6/10/14 , edited 6/10/14

Punk tutted at his companion's lack of sense for safety.

Well, whatever she likes.

He leaned back slightly and stepped on the pedal. The backlash of the sudden spurt of seat would be painful should he not have settled comfortably. The latest technology cooling fabric enveloped the driver seat kept the occupants cool despite the midday sun. Punk drifted smoothly through the streets as passer-bys watched the strange contraception of a moped run the wind.

"Sir," a cool voice spoke through his headset. "You have fifteen minutes left before clock in. I advise you drop your baggage at HQ lobby."

Punk ignored his android and continued on the route to Seaside Bay. Gentle melodies of Qianxue's early songs hummed in the music box version throughout the moped. Apparently, the speakers were hidden in the moped frames as micro speakers.

"Lil bunny, now you tell me where to go-" Punk was distracted as his eyes flickered to the rear mirror.

"Never mind. You better hold on tight."

Without further ado, Punk pressed a button on the underside of his right handle and the moped sprang to life - a few soft clangs within the machine changed the gears for turbo boosting. The moped sped through the suburban and further away from its destination. Punk took numerous sharp turns, checking the rear mirror frequently. His wind-swept hair slapped his face repeatedly but he paid no heed - he was more interested in escaping. The black Honda Civic soon lost its target and the driver stepped out of the car to make a quick phone call. Meanwhile, the moped slowed to an effortless stop behind the patrol box. Punk had directed his moped in a huge detour to return to their starting point.

"Tch," he irritably cursed under his breath as he tapped his fuel tank meter.

Silently, the moped drifted out of its hiding place and past behind the watchful eyes of their pursuer. They arrived outside Renee's apartment.

"Sir, it is ten minutes past one now," the female android reminded an indignant Punk.

"Lil' bunny," Punk spoke in a levelled tone as he helped her out of the moped. "It seems you have a stalker."

He paused.

"I have my number input. Check your phone. Still, you should inform your family about your predicament. Although I doubt they would be of much help, I got a feeling-"

Punk decided not to elaborate and put on his helmet. He drove off without much of a back glance. he was uncharacteristically late for work. And Reaper's message finally got through to Punk - the Superintendent had dropped by their office.

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