The train car was nearly empty, with it being a Saturday morning. Altair caught himself on the shameful thought that he would have preferred to ride with her on a busy day instead, so they would be forced to stand close together. Like she would ride public transportation during rush hour. She'd probably just order a limo instead.

Alt had no way of knowing that minor nobles, specially from recently titled families like Ronel's often weren't that much better off than affluent commoners, and that not every one of them would waste money on useless frivolities. As the train took off silently, riding several stories above ground, he could observe from the futuristic windows the wealthy residential districts of Darsenius. They were dwarfed by the tall towers of the financial district, and even further away he could see the grey, dim ghettos stretching into the horizon. Just how many million people lived here, and how many of them would never get to be real citizens of Levantia?

"You are distracted today...," she stated, looking at him perceptively.

"It's nothing. I am just a bit worried about my friend... he got into a little accident yesterday," Alt replied, not wanting to get into the details as he wasn't particularly proud by how his involvement had turned out.

"What's up with you staying over the break anyways? I thought you would head back to your fancy castle," he teased.

"I am a princess, but I have no castle," she shrugged playfully. "Things haven't been all that hot with my parents... they let me stay here after I convinced them I would spend my time studying religiously in the library to bring glory to the mighty Pellegny name."

Little do they know, Alt chuckled internally. He would not be surprised if by the time graduation arrived Ronel would still not have taken a single step inside the library building. Altair thought about asking what the deal with her family was, but he could sense her reservation speaking about the topic, so he let it slide.

A small river followed along the route of the tracks, with frequent bridges connecting the two sides. He could see various faded graffiti on the walls, some in the process of being painted over with respectable colors, and others just covered by propaganda posters. The whole city gave the sense that it was ripped from a dystopia, with an eternal struggle between ancient cathedrals and modern high-rises, between peaceful scenes of residents laughing and celebrating in a public park, and protesters being gagged and dragged from the streets into armored vans without a license plate by inscrutable men in gray suits. The contrast was disconcerting, and everybody in his inner circle acting like nothing was off even more.

"Let me treat you to a drink first to cheer you up!" Ronel's bubbly voice brought him back from his reverie.

"Huh, why would you? What would you gain from it?"

"What are you implying?" she asked, making an exaggeratedly scandalous expression. "Can't I just express my gratitude to a friend?" she asked, puzzling him further. "The math test, dummy. You really saved me there. If not for you, I would have to take extra classes the entire first semester!"

"Oh that," Altair spoke, remembering how they had first met. At the very beginning of the summer camp, the attendees had been forced to take a placement test in the core subjects, to identify any major weaknesses which they would have to compensate for with an extra workload when the actual school year started. "It wasn't even a real test."

"But the answers you gave me were real enough!" she spoke loudly, enjoying how he panicked about being potentially overheard by fellow passengers. During that exam, they had been randomly assigned neighboring seats. As Altair was knocking down question after question, he had an uncomfortable impression that somebody was drilling holes into him with their eyes. He noticed the delicate girl sitting by the window, looking at him with puppy-like eyes, and lifting her exam sheet in his direction conspicuously, obviously encouraging him to do the same. Before he knew it, he had complied, helping her pass with flying colors.

It was a stupid risk... but it got us talking.

"I look forward to your help next semester!" she said, emphasizing the word "help" to communicate a double-meaning, clearly enjoying messing with his buttons.

"I can help you study, but that's it," he tried to draw a firm line in the sand, but his meek voice betrayed his resolve.

"Oh... you don't like me anymore, is that it?" she asked, resorting to a pouty look.

"What? Where did that come from?" Altair asked, beet-red, for the first time that day becoming fully present in the moment. "It's not that...," he denied, while looking away.

"Shhhh," she shooed him, standing up. "Your confession will have to wait," she said, as a robotic voice announced to the entire car that they had arrived at their destination.

Argh, Altair rubbed his cheeks, attempting to regain composure. She is always one step ahead of me.

After exiting the platform, they took an elevator that led them to a busy street. There were billboards announcing the upcoming National Unity Day, with information about the planned military parade and fireworks. It seemed that the Central District was busy with preparations, with municipal workers cleaning the streets in a frenzy, and construction brigades overseeing renovations. The government liked to keep up an appearance of prosperity and order above all, even if the whole structure was rotten to the core.

The pair dodged the heavy traffic by taking an underground tunnel and ended up in front of the entrance of a large and modern shopping mall that looked out of place with the historic quarters surrounding it. Inside, a large variety of colors and noise attacked Alt from all directions, as the store greeters attempted to lure them in whenever they passed-by. There were multiple floors, with a never-ending array of shops selling everything from clothing to children's toys, but the atmosphere remained claustrophobic despite the glass ceiling above them. All this abundance felt fake and presumptuous in the wake of the STOP signs that were plastered at the entrance indicating that refugees weren't allowed.

"Game time!" the petite girl announced as they received a discount coupon for a men's wear shop. "Time to dress you up!"

"I'll pass...," Alt protested, but she still dragged him inside the trendy store, which focused on emulating outfits like those he saw in passing on the covers of men's fashion magazines. After having him try countless combinations that he reluctantly put on, she finally closed in on a set composed of a buttoned-down shirt, ripped jeans, high-top sneakers, and sunglasses with a scarf to complete the look.

"You should get this," she said in a tone not leaving any room for discussion.

"Uh...," Alt said, looking away. He knew that if she set her mind on something there was no changing it, at least in what concerned fashion. He could see the value in upgrading his wardrobe, so that at least he would not be calling attention to himself for all the wrong reasons while out on casual outings but emptying his already light wallet would be foolish until he had at least secured some part-time work.

"It's on me," Ronel said, surprising him.

"Huh? No, it's not needed...," Alt objected. "Can we at least drop the scarf? It's summer, after all," he attempted a compromise, seeing she was not budging.

"Nope, it's a package deal," she closed the discussion, giggling at how uncomfortable he seemed. She went to the cashier to check out after he hastily returned to his regular outfit.

Talk about sending mixed signals... one moment she ignores me and the next one she's buying me stuff.

"Thank you," he said as they walked out of the store, despite how difficult his pride made it to accept such gifts.

"Don't sweat it. You will be able to repay me soon enough," she cryptically told him.

Altair promptly realized what she had meant, as they navigated from store to store, his hands carrying increasingly more bags as she tried on and purchased the umpteenth dress.

Where would she even store these things, anyways? Did she get two rooms for herself at the dorms or what?

"Um... Ronel, should we maybe take a break?" he asked, without getting his hopes up.

"You really think we can just skip on shoes like that?" she gasped with feigned indignation, her expression screaming "you didn't just say that".

So, this is how it feels being a hostage, Altair resigned himself to his Fate. At least she didn't force to put make up on. He didn't celebrate this fact yet, as with her whimsical nature he never knew what to expect next.

The teenage boy finally excused himself for a restroom break that he used instead to just get some fresh air. By the outdoor food court an unremarkable establishment grabbed his attention.

"Mystic Tattoo Parlor" the sign said in a cursive font.

I wonder if they would know anything about the design I got. It shouldn't hurt if I just ask around.

He walked in, a little uncomfortable at entering an 18+ establishment. The interior reminded him a bit of a regular barbershop, except on the walls, rather than depictions of haircuts he could see the shop's portfolio of their previous ink work. All sorts of designs, from fierce predators to henna art were available to imprint in one's body.

"Ahem... can I help you?" a clerk asked him, raising an eyebrow. It was hard to look him straight in the eyes, with the various extreme piercings disfiguring his face and his entire body which was covered up to his neck in colorful, intricate patterns serving as a distraction.

If this guy can't tell me anything about it, probably no one in this world can, Alt figured.

"Uh yes. So, this is a bit of a strange question... you see, my friends played a prank on me when I was sleeping, and got me a tattoo. I was hoping you could tell me a bit more about it, like what it stands for."

"Your friends got you a tattoo? Aren't you still like in middle school?" the tattooist asked, doubt apparent in his words.

"Yeah... I think it's one of those temporary ones... I do need to get it off before school year starts," Altair answered, ignoring the unintentional diss.

"Alright, show it to me," the older man finally agreed. Alt exposed his shoulder and the artist leaned over, first looking at it with the naked eye, and then getting a magnifying glass to inspect it closely.

"Hmmm, this is a strange ink. Nothing like I ever seen before," he commented, with a disconcerted look, after a few minutes of silent introspection. "How did this happen again you said?"

"I am not really sure...," Alt replied, averting his eyes, getting a bad vibe from the interaction.

"Let me get my colleague to check it out. Stay right here." the shopkeeper commanded.

Something about his tone further triggered Alt's sixth sense.

What if he thought I was a foreign agent or something? I better get out of here.

The hypothesis sent shivers down the boy's spine. If mall security detained him, and then passed him off to the authorities for an official investigation, God knows when and if he would get out, especially since there was no way for him of coming up with a convincing story about the tattoo event.

Altair slipped away inconspicuously, ignoring the calls of the tattooist telling him to stay still. After putting some distance between him and his hypothetical pursuers, he decided it was too dangerous to stick around, and went to get Ronel, on his way stopping by a restroom and putting his new outfit on to help shake of any tail. He found his companion being chatted up by an athletic man in his late teens, dressed like a dandy and acting like he owed the place.

"Ahem," Alt coughed, trying to catch her attention as he awkwardly approached them. She looked at him with a scolding look and pulled him by his arm.

"What took you so long? Were you shoplifting or something?" she asked, while the taller boy clearly sized him up.

"What?! I'd never...," Alt started to protest, outraged.

"Is he your friend?" the stranger asked, making a step to stand closer to her in a territorial way.

"Oh, he is my little bro," Ronel replied, ruffling Alt's hair as if he was a little kid despite them being of the same height, leaving him dumbfounded. "You shouldn't bring shame to our family like this, what if you get caught?"

I will get you for this, Alt vowed to himself, looking at her vindictively.

"Relax, I know deep down you are a big softie," she chuckled. "You do look like you were running for your life though."

Little does she know.

"I am just not feeling well... can we head out?" he pleaded.

"Alright then, but since we are stopping halfway, I expect you to come with me again soon!" the petite girl whispered in his ear, while the taller boy looked at the unexpected visitor in irritation.

"Deal," Alt quickly agreed, thinking of excuses to convince her to pick a different location next time.

She gave a little wink to the boy she had been speaking with and they turned around.

"Wait, can I have your number?" he called after her.

"What, you think I am one of those girls that gives her number to any stranger who asks?" she replied with feigned indignation. "Just find me on Meeter," she blew an air kiss as Altair dragged her away.

Is she being serious? Alt thought, recognizing the name of the dating app. I thought only adults used that.

An awkward silence ensued between them as they headed back towards the terminal, Alt clearly wanting to ask something but not daring to bring it up.

"I am not actually on Meeter you know," Ronel said out of nowhere, seeing his dejected expression.

First the witch, now Ronel... can everybody around me read my thoughts now?

"I didn't ask," he tried to act cool, but his mood visibly improved. As they reached the station, he started to relax, feeling that the risk of being pulled by mall security had been averted.