Masquerade of Shadows

"Secured and confirmed, the package is en route. Mission completed," breathed Michelle into the public telephone booth. She held a sleek mobile phone to her lips, her voice a covert murmur, "A new assignment you say? The coordinates are noted, I trust the asset will be awaiting my arrival." She stepped from the cocoon of the booth, her eyes finding Jaime across the way, an unlikely moth drawn to the light of three exuberantly chatty women.

***

I stood amidst the trio of merry women, their light laughter acting as the melody to our cheerful conversation when I spotted Michelle drawing closer, "My apologies, ladies," I offered a smile, laced with genuine regret, "I would have thoroughly enjoyed your enchanting company had I not prior engagements." Their eyes flitted to Michelle, her ethereal beauty casting a shadow of intimidation, they masked their disappointment with parting smiles. Perhaps, it was not Michelle but the emblem of BtP that induced their hasty farewell.

"Did you enthrall them?" Michelle asked, her eyes narrowed, playful accusation dancing in her gaze as the women receded. "I assure you I didn't," I retorted defensively, "It was a mere exchange of directions, followed by a casual invitation, nothing more." I offered her a hopeful glance, but was met with her retreating figure, a subtle trace of annoyance lining her movements.

"Is my honesty under scrutiny?" I questioned, falling into stride beside her. She remained silent, a silent protest to my proclamation. Gently, I encircled her waist, pressed a tender kiss on her cheek, "Today, my love, I'm exclusively yours, my heart beats only for you."

Michelle paused, giving my palm a gentle squeeze. "I find it hard to believe you," she confessed, her words swallowed by my rich laughter echoing through the maze of city streets.

As the sun began its languid descent, casting long, dramatic shadows against the city's architectural masterpieces, the cityscape began to transform. Neon lights flickered to life one by one, painting the streets with an array of vibrant colors that mirrored a mesmerizing modern canvas.

The street vendors, too, began to stir, their small stalls springing to life. The air was filled with an intoxicating melange of aromas - roasted peanuts, sugary wisps of cotton candy, and the inviting scent of warm, buttery pastries. The city's steady hum amplified into a lively drone, an urban symphony marking the transition from day to night.

Women, adorned in mysterious masks and elegant gowns, sauntered past us, their laughter and excited chatter adding an ethereal quality to the city's soundscape. Their eyes sparkled with youthful exuberance, the anticipation of a night full of possibilities making them glow even brighter.

Nearby, a group of young men, already giddy from early evening libations, tried to woo the passing masked women with their raucous humor and flamboyant gestures. Their bravado, magnified by the mystical allure of the masquerade, was a sight to behold.

Offsetting the adult spectacle was a delightful tableau of children at play. Their innocent laughter echoed through the streets as they darted in and out of the throng, their faces painted with joy, their spirits untouched by the adult world. Their own versions of masks painted on their faces, they immersed themselves in the revelry with an infectious enthusiasm.

Pedestrians began donning their own masks, a unique assortment ranging from simple to elaborate, each a testament to their wearer's taste and personality. Whether they were heading home or just beginning their nocturnal adventures, they all added their own unique flair to the masquerade festival.

The sight of me seemed to spark giggles among the younger women in the crowd, their whispers growing louder with each glance they stole. Instinctively, Michelle gripped my hand tighter, her touch a comforting anchor amidst the bustling sea of masked revelers. She navigated through the crowd, her grip on my hand a silent promise of a memorable night to come.

"You seem to be the cynosure of quite a few admiring eyes again."

"Perhaps it's the allure of my attire," I speculated.

Michelle chuckled, "The clothes do complement you."

"I believe it's the other way around, I'm undeserving of such finery."

"Stop jesting," Michelle replied, her eyes scanning the lively crowd.

"I'm confounded. I wonder whether they're appreciating me or the clothes. If these were for sale, they would outprice my worth, it seems only you value me so high," I mused, eliciting a peal of laughter from Michelle. "Michelle, these luxuries, I shall return them tomorrow."

"No need," Michelle murmured.

"But the price, it's astronomical. This watch, for instance," I protested.

"Jaime, those weren't my expenses. That boutique is under the auspices of the BtP Intelligence Division. They doll us up before each mission and bear the expenses," Michelle revealed.

"But wouldn't it stir trouble? Aren't you a mere administrative officer?" I queried.

She snuggled closer, her grip on my arm tightening, "Jaime, the truth is, I'm a field operative for the Intelligence Division."

This revelation left me uneasy, "So, by operative, you mean you infiltrate hostile territories, risking exposure and probable elimination? If you're caught, BtP wouldn't even claim your remains?"

Michelle's grip tightened, "We are trained to always be prepared for the worst. Hence, these little luxuries are granted to us, with no check-ins required."

I fell silent, words eluding me.

"What if I disappeared one day, would you miss me or search for me?" Michelle asked, her voice trembling, her gaze conveying a deep-seated loneliness. We halted, amidst the river of people, I turned towards her, wrapping her in a protective embrace, "Don't utter such words. Would you consider relinquishing your dangerous profession?"

"Why?" she asked, her hold tightening.

"The anxiety when you're unreachable is unbearable. I love you, Michelle," I whispered, "Think of our children and the life that grows within you."

"Jaime," she sighed.

"Promise me you'll cease causing me such worry. I love you so deeply, Michelle," I murmured.

Silence lingered between us until Michelle broke it, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" I inquired, puzzled.

"Becoming someone else."

A laugh escaped my lips, "Isn't that what those books you lent me on acting and performance guide you towards? To become someone else?"

I had borrowed books from Michelle's collection, ones on acting, drama, performance, and more on the performing arts world. Coupled with my Master's books on interpreting body language, I seemed to possess the potential to be a film star. Michelle's books were primarily on basic disguises. She possessed an extensive collection, with her innocent explanation being that she aspired to be an artist. A clever ruse to hide the truth behind it.

"I hadn't expected you to read them and…" Michelle's hands trailed to my chest, her touch light as a feather, "You're doing an exceptional job, so much so that I might actually fall for you and end up nursing a broken heart again."

A smirk played on my lips, my fingers tilting her chin gently, "Perhaps I'm not as good as I think I am, considering we're together and you're yet to fall for me."

I closed the distance between us, my lips ghosting over hers.

A warmth seeped into Michelle from our delicate kiss, causing her heart to flutter, leaving her quivering slightly.

Michelle gently pushed me away, her cheeks flushed, "What are you doing?" she whispered, "We're in public."

"Do I need to curb my love for you in public?" I retorted, meeting her gaze.

"You're dangerous, Jaime," she warned.

"Not as dangerous as you, secret agent."

"Do you believe me?"

I laughed, "As much as I believe you're two months pregnant with our child even though we've never been intimate."

"Hm…" Michelle's glare spoke volumes, "You'll regret it if you lose me one day."

I pulled her closer, continuing our journey, "I won't lose you, I might only regret it if you ask for the LXX and this watch back. I am already falling in love with them."

"Despicable," she scoffed.

My laughter echoed amidst the street's ambiance as I pulled her into a comforting embrace, "Should danger ever cast its shadow upon you, call upon me. I vow to be your sanctuary, your shield, even your bulletproof if need be. Trust in me, for I will rush to your side."

"You have vowed to me, Jaime." Michelle leaned into our shared warmth, holding onto me deeply.

"I have vowed to you, indeed."

"For now," Michelle released my embrace gently and pulled out an armband inscribed with BtP, with a dark blue line almost black, above and below it. It had two stars in the middle, along with the emblem of an owl's face and its two eyes. The BtP armbands come in different colors, depending on their division, and also have symbols that vary by division. "You have to wear this to get into the masquerade party."

"Will everything be okay?"

"This armband is original, belonging to my ex team-leader."

"How did you get it?"

Michelle grinned mischievously, "I stole it, along with a set of his official BtP uniforms."

I held the armband in my hand.

What would happen if everything fails?

Impersonating a superhuman could result in a punishment "worse than death" and end up in the BtP Research Division. Some people have dared to wear fake armbands for fun or to threaten others and ended up in the Research Division.

It might be the smartest thing an ordinary person can do to get the quickest shortcut to becoming a superhuman because the Research Division uses them as guinea pigs. Ordinary humans can be transformed into superhumans.

(Or die foolishly.)

I thought about all this and asked myself again, do I really want to do all this because it's my life at stake. Michelle pulled my hand, making me look at her, and I smelled her soft perfume.

I'm halfway through, I can only move forward now. There shouldn't be any problem whatsoever that will happen.

Or not?