TO KILL IS TO SERVE

Chapter 2: The Portraits

The second day of my assassination job started blandly, still with Alora completely ignoring me and these girls swarming me like I am some kind of sweet thing, ready to get devoured. Is this going to get me somewhere? I thought as I reject their invitations, one by one. I had to keep my nice act and my smiling face to continue this game, but they have no idea how itchy my hands are becoming whenever they touch me crudely.

“Grei, please, just this once!” Talia, the one who steals answer for a living, put her hands together, intertwined her fingers, furrowed her brows and pouted her lips while acting all annoying as she pleaded for the f*****g eighth time. "I really want to try that newly opened comedy bar with you and my friends for I believe you are really humorous!" What the f*****g hell does that have to do with me?

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her left ear and smiled professionally, “I am sorry but as I have said, I have a part-time job later, milady.” I muttered while staring deeply. I need you to remember my fake face and modulated voice, instead of the whole me. I thought, still keeping my charm. The girls, spellbound by my current self, continued pestering me until the bell rang.

At last, the class is finally starting after that long exhausting lunch break.

“Okay, please fix yourself for the class is starting.” Miss Cherrie greeted as soon as she got inside the classroom and everyone got back to their original seats. The art instructor is holding the canvases we handed in yesterday and it seemed like she’s in a really good mood. “Now I will rank these portraits according to the lessons for the past month and our general guidelines.” She pointed the right corner part of the room, where a tarpaulin said art guidelines is located. “Okay, what the heck am I seeing?” She chuckled while checking the canvases one by one. Her face and expressions change as she shifts from drawing to drawing, like she’s almost mocking and making fun of some artworks in her mind. What a bad instructor with a good sense of humor. I thought as I presume that not even half of these people are taking art seriously.

I quickly skimmed the guidelines to know how high my art could climb and I bet I won’t get anything lower than 5th place. I’ve mastered art, after all. I conclude while nodding to myself.

No one except me, not even Alora, is actually paying attention to the instructor while she’s exchanging and switching the places of our canvases in their easels and she is used to all the disrespect she’s getting. I pity people who can certainly do something but just denied to act on their authority. Cherrie, here, is a f*****g teacher of her own class. What a loss of brain. I stayed silent while observing.

“It’s always this slow.” I heard Alora, who’s beside me, mumbled to herself. I faced her and she glimpsed at me for a second, probably wanting to ask why the heck am I staring at her without knowing that my hearing is as sensitive as that of a wolf’s.

“Hey, what could your place be?” I asked the woman after a minute of silence and just like earlier, she only lent me a glance and got back to sketching something on her newly brought eraser. I bet she sketch something on everything she owns. I assumed since she is an artist and it’s obvious that she is good at it. “Alora…” I called again to get an answer. If she weren’t impressed of my disguise, I will force myself to her in order to get her to tell me every lie on all those holes on Mister Kenshin Park’s story.

Alora looked at me and rolled her eyes up, glancing on the busy instructor, then lowered her eyes back to her eraser. “Why can’t you just wait?” She uttered whilst giving me this much attention. “We will eventual—”

“I am done!” It was Miss Cherrie’s merry voice that interrupted Alora’s will to finally reply to me. I was finally making her say something. I exhaled in displeasure as I watch Alora directing that little bit of attention she was generously lending to me back to her eraser that seemed to be more important than actual people, like myself. “Let us flip these masterpieces of yours, one by one.” Miss Cherrie announced and walked from the top right corner of the room to the left corner. Those who are interested turned to her, including Alora, as she turns the flipped canvases one by one while commenting about them.

What is this, my exhibit? I held my face when I saw that almost half of the class drew me at different angles, aside from boys. I bet those horse-looking long-haired portraits belonged to these good-for-nothing jerks. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

“It’s your exhibit, newbie!” One of the guys shouted and the girls turned to me, grinning and smiling like they did a good job when they obviously don’t. I look f*****g ugly in those portraits. I secretly sighed and smiled back to them to show my pretentious support and gratefulness. "But good thing they draw like kids and I am wearing a disguise." I whispered to myself after realizing how threatening this situation should've been if I weren't careful.

“I don’t even know what to say after seeing how united you guys were when you all decided to draw Grei.” Miss Cherrie chuckled and as expected, the jerks snorted. “Okay, now let’s reveal the top 5.” The lady said as soon as she’s finished laughing at the hilarious portraits of my face and she flipped the fifth canvas. “Top 5, Lily Dwaine, and she drew Grei Grazer.” Cherrie announced and commented about her work. Okay, that was fine. I smiled and looked at my right, where I saw Lily, a chubby lady with ponytail, shyly covering her face. She did great drawing my jawline. I like her details of my clothes, too. But she just changed my hairstyle and that clearly doesn’t suit my current disguise at all. The instructor did not even point that flaw of hers out.

Miss Cherrie put back Lily’s portrait back to the easel and turned the other one beside hers. “Top 4, Sean Franks. Okay, and as always, he used Yatschie Sandoval as his model.” Oh, so her name’s Yatschie. I nodded discreetly. I hate to admit it but she has a face and body of a real model, adding that Sean’s skillset. A Sandoval… that Sandoval? If yes, then, she indeed is a wealthy busty woman who clings to handsome guys, thinking that they can be bought by money her father, a seaman for twenty years, makes. I once had a request to assassinate Youssef Sandoval due to personal grudge and if this girl is still living a life of luxury, then I think Mister Sandoval hasn’t met his demise from some other assassin, yet.

“Okay, the Top 3 is surprisingly remarkable.” The word that will never miss any phrase Miss Cherrie says is okay and my ears are sick of her high-pitched okays already. Miss Cherrie held the third canvas and I saw her glancing at me for a second. That’s mine. I concluded right away. “I didn’t know that our transferee knows how to lie about not knowing anything about art.” I took things easy this time. I smiled and faced upfront. The girls cheered and congratulated me like idiots. What is the point of those f*****g congratulations? I thought and kept my eyes smiling as I thank them for their definitely fake appreciation. “The top 3 is Grei Grazer. And he made an almost perfect replica of Alora Weller!” When my canvas was turned for us to look at, those praises disappeared and were changed into mockeries and scorns—by the same people who cheered and congratulated me earlier.

I pursed my lips as I hold my laughter together. f*****g fakers. I cursed while listening to how they ridicule and poke fun of my art work and my chosen model. These people can be assassins without them knowing for being so pretentious. My assassin-inner-self is dying of laughter now.

“Such a waste of canvas.”

“Why did you have to draw something the eyes could not even take to look at?”

“How could you disgrace a beautiful white canvas?”

“Really, Alora, out of all people here?”

“I would accept it more if he were to draw a horse or something other than her.”

Some are just jokes, but others went over the limit of what they should only say. They were savages, badmouths and haters. I am not sure why but Alora here, is not the same subject that Mister Park once described. I assumed and took a quick glance on Alora to see how she’s taking everything—and she’s apparently doing fine, now drawing on the other side of her eraser. It’s either she’s already used to hear those, she just couldn’t care more or she’s undeniably good at hiding her feelings, that fooling an assassin who sits beside her is never a hard thing. I won’t take C for an answer.

“Quiet down.” A guy in front spoke out and I turned to look at him. According to how I rated and evaluated them on my first day, he would be a silent but deadly type of guy. Very dangerous. Those who talk less produce more bullets. “We’re in class, not some kind of talk show. Save your comments for the trashcan later.” And he exhaled a breath of disappointment towards his classmates.

Is he that white knight in every novel that I once read? I raised my brows in assumption. I bet he’s somewhat interested in Alora for cutting his classmates like that.

“Okay, I just wanted to commend Grei for his wonderful way of shading.” In the midst of chaos, Miss Cherrie butted in, like she never heard her students cursing and mocking another student of hers. I am getting utterly disappointed in this lady who knows nothing about being an instructor. I turned to her and slightly bowed my head as my thanks, making sure I wouldn't show my disgusted expression. “I like how you detailed Alora’s eyeglasses’ reflection. You really are an artist and you surprised me, Mister. Have you attended any art classes before?” She asked.

I stood up to pay my respect and answered, “Thank you for your praises, Mademoiselle. However, being aware of how lacking I still am with art, I dare not to acknowledge myself as an artist, yet. But my answer in the latter question would be no, for I have never had any art classes before; although people call me art prodigy, I know I have no rights to claim such honorable title. Still, I humbly thank you for recognizing my art piece and my model.” I sat down after answering. I just left her and everyone, even those who’re doing something else and not getting serious in class, dumbfounded—which is exactly my aim.

Dear, I’ve never had any art classes for I’ve been living my life mastering everything sideways with assassinating; whether it’s art, math, science, politics, psychology, disguise, poison, gunning, knifing, martial arts, sports, cooking or any other skills vital for my chosen work. Please don’t think lightly of me for I have been praised for my creativity by international artists already. I only let this activity off to get Alora’s interest and attention. I thought and smiled while staring at Miss Cherrie. I really am having fun while playing with new people’s naivety. Unlike Mister Park, my acting doesn’t suck.

“Okay.” She replied, blinking awkwardly and held the next two canvases for final revelation. “Let’s move on to the Top 1 seeing as this time, we don’t have top 2 for I have decided to make these two in a tie.” She turned the canvases, both portraits of her in different angles, and everyone stayed silent for a while until they began making fun of what is obvious and what the majority of them lack—talent.

“But there’s nothing new.”

“Really? Alora? Getting the top spot? Very normal.”

“It’s too common for her to be in the first place already. There is nothing exceptional or anything.”

These people are making fun of someone for having something they don't. They are obviously the lowest type of people. And I am f*****g curious of why they're doing this only to Alora. 

“Heck!” I turned to look at the lady beside me who suddenly cursed. “That almost slipped.” And she held her chest while chuckling. Please don’t act so nervous, you don’t look like one at all. I covered my mouth and grinned. “Did you get the answer you’ve wanted?” Alora looked at me with a word cocky pasted all over her face.

There was an undeniably amazing confident I newly found in that stand-offish personality of hers. She’s unexpectedly ambitious when it comes to art that no hateful words can break her tower down nor tower on her to make her feel small.

“Let’s clap our hands for our first timer and our very own Top 1, Manasseh Tylor and Alora Weller.” And everyone, even though they don’t like it but it was almost an order from an instructor, clapped their hands–our hands, for the both of them. I don’t know who in this hell Manasseh is but he uses his pens well and his name is too weird for my ears. I thought while clapping. And as for Alora, I don’t know what more to comment. She shouldn’t be in an art workshop in the middle of summer anymore in the first place. “You both did a great job applying the rules while sticking to your own styles—Manasseh, with that excellent detailing and Alora, with your all-season legendary lining and strokes. The way Alora drew me is exceptional as always, and Manasseh as well with Alora’s eyes—”

“Miss!” Someone in front reacted, cutting Miss Cherrie’s last line as if guilty.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” And Miss Cherrie laughed, obviously teasing this guy.

I see. Manasseh was that man who shut everyone up earlier and though he visibly drew Miss Cherrie, I could see how he used Alora’s eyes for reference. If one were to look closely, there really is a part of Alora in his drawing. Although I’ve only seen Alora’s eyes for about two seconds, I can already tell. I like the crossing idea but what the f**k is wrong with this guy? That’s just creepy. My eyes squinted whilst looking at his direction. He must be Alora’s friend. He drew Alora’s eyes without even looking at her. Aside from his creepiness, he also broke the rule wherein you shouldn’t touch your original’s subject as you draw. Perhaps, Miss Cherrie is fine with favoritism.

I looked at Alora and she sighed and got her phone out of her pocket. “What a joke. My eyes are not that bright.” I heard her whisper while looking at her own reflection. Maybe it’s an unrequited love. I guessed and grinned.

I grabbed her phone and she gasped in surprise of what I just did. “Just a second.” I uttered and opened her lock-free phone. She doesn’t even secure her personal thing, not even with a simple lock. I thought and quickly input my number and before she could yell at me, I already handed her the phone.

“What did you do?” She roared in a compressed sound and pitch after grabbing her phone from my hand and glared at me like she’s ready to kill me anytime. She opened her little gadget and scrolled to see what I have done but she only frowned after realizing that my hand’s too fast for her to see anything and I work too clean to leave any evidence. She, then, with a frowning face, turned to me and clicked her tongue. “Don’t grab your not-friend’s phone like that or else I’ll sue you for stealing.” She even emphasized her not-friend thing.

“I registered a number.” I whispered and winked at her to leave her all puzzled, and as expected, she doesn’t know how to react properly and just stared at me blankly. I faced upfront and scanned my classmates once again. They would be a threat to my target. I thought.

These imbeciles mock her like they’re any better than her when they cannot even draw a f*****g straight line. For sure their petty asses are just doing this for fun and enjoyment. They are just fulfilling their thirst for higher places, even if they had to push someone better than them down. They are so into their self-made hierarchy and f**k that for that will never be of any help in life.

The dumbfounded Alora has finally moved as she gasps. “You what, why? Number of what?” She began scrolling on her phone as she stutters, looking for what I just did.

I chuckled and brushed away a strand of hair lost in her face and then she looked at me, brows furrowed. How could you let something who’s not your friend touch you like that? I crossed my arms and rested my back completely. “You can now have the most lethal weapon everyone is willing to pay for, Alora, for free.” I placed both my hands on the back of my head and stretched my back. I cannot lose my own prey. That’s just taboo for assassins. I smiled and turned to her once again, watching how she crumpled her forehead as she frantically looks at her phone.  “Just go dial the number and that weapon is all yours. Aren’t you glad?” I winked and chuckled.

Alora stopped scrolling at her contacts when she reached letter G, where my name Grei, is listed. “We’re not even friends, really.” She rolled her eyes on me. I think she’s enjoying to rub my non-existent wound about us not being friends and me not making any progress by constantly reminding me about it. Alora sighed and turned to me once, then slid her phone into her pocket. She did not delete it. I nodded and fixed my position, then faced upfront as I hide my grin. She won’t delete it.

 This day might be another wasted day for I haven't found anything useful for this assassination deal yet, but at least, I know I made a sure and certain move to Alora this time. There will be no way to escape from my judgment after 28 days. I cannot wait to know who I shall spare and who I shall slay.