The first few days after my meeting with Ms. Emily passed without much incident. I settled into a pattern, something I could count on in a life full of unknowns.

  Every morning, I woke up early, grabbed a quick breakfast from the bakery on my way to campus, and helped Mrs. Lily out a bit. Her little bakery, "Lily's Delights", was a cozy corner of comfort in an otherwise bustling town. The sweet smell of pastries and freshly brewed coffee greeted me each morning. The moment I stepped inside, Mrs. Lily, with her warm smile and sprightly demeanor, would wave me over to the counter.

  “Good morning, Kira!” she’d say, her eyes twinkling behind her round glasses. “Could you be a dear and help me with this tray? You’re just in time for the rush.”

  I always enjoyed the peacefulness of the bakery, despite the constant flow of customers. There was something soothing about preparing the displays, wiping down tables, or simply handing over a bag of croissants with a smile. Mrs. Lily was never too demanding—she had a way of making even the busiest mornings feel manageable.

  After a quick chat and helping with the last of the orders, I’d grab my breakfast—a warm almond croissant and a strong coffee—before heading out the door.

  “Don’t forget, you’re always welcome to join me for tea after school, dear,” Mrs. Lily would call after me, her voice filled with genuine affection. I would wave back, appreciating the offer but knowing I had a long day ahead.

  The walk to the university was short, but it gave me time to gather my thoughts. Invisible, I reminded myself. No distractions, no need to stand out. I preferred it that way.

  At Lamburgh, I had perfected the art of blending in. I attended my classes, listened carefully, but never made waves. I didn’t need the spotlight. Most days, I walked through the halls without attracting any attention—no one bothered me, and I didn’t bother them. It was easier that way, with everything I was carrying on my shoulders. Besides, the less I was seen, the less I would have to engage in the ridiculous drama of this place.

  But every so often, when I passed by the small group of wealthy students, I couldn’t help but notice the way they carried themselves. There was an arrogance, a self-assurance that radiated from them like an aura. They were untouchable, with their laughter echoing through the corridors and their smirks as they passed by the other students, all of whom seemed to worship the ground they walked on.

  I noticed them, but I didn’t let myself get caught up in their world. I was just another student—another face in the crowd.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The days passed by like that—quiet, unnoticed. Every day I helped Mrs. Lily, grabbed my breakfast, and then slipped into my classes, keeping my distance from the world around me.

  It was a simple life, but it was the one I had chosen, and it was working fine—at least for now.

  I knew I needed a car. Not because I was desperate for a set of wheels, but because the next phase of my plan was beginning, and it required mobility. The old hatchback from the dealership was a perfect fit—nothing flashy, just practical.

  I stood outside the dealership, my hands in my pockets, staring at the car I was about to purchase. It wasn’t much—just a small, reliable vehicle. It had been owned by a few others, but it ran fine, and that’s all I needed. The sales guy was all smiles, trying to sell me on features I didn’t care about, but I nodded and agreed.

  As I handed over the cash, my mind wasn’t on the car. It was already moving forward to the next task: finding a job.

  I didn’t need the money. I had enough saved up from my investments. And truth be told, it wasn’t wealth that kept me going—it was the mission. The job that had brought me here was still unfinished, and it would be my focus until the very last detail was done. Money? It wasn’t the issue. Being invisible, unnoticed—no one needed to know who I was or what I was after. Not yet.

  The Job Search:

  I spent the next couple of days sifting through job ads, skimming over what seemed like the usual student work. Most of it wouldn’t suit my needs. The truth was, I didn’t want a job that required me to get too involved. I needed something that would keep me in the background while also allowing me to observe. I needed to stay out of the spotlight, avoid anyone who could get in my way.

  But I also needed access.

  I found a few ads—nothing stood out, nothing screamed perfect. That is, until I saw the listing for The Silver Plate.

  "Fine Dining Restaurant Looking for Evening Staff—Hostess and Waitstaff. Elite Clientele. Discretion Required."

  The words elite clientele immediately caught my eye. This was exactly what I needed—direct exposure to the city’s power players, without ever needing to interact with them beyond the surface. I could learn from them, understand their dynamics, and maybe—just maybe—get closer to what I needed to finish my deal.

  I called immediately. The position was available for evening shifts and weekends, which fit perfectly into my schedule. A quick interview and I would be in. I wasn’t after fame or money. I just needed the access, the opportunity to blend in and observe.

  The Deal Is Done.

  With the car purchase behind me and the job lined up, I felt like I was inching closer to what needed to happen. I wasn’t relying on my savings just yet, but it was a comfort to know I had a cushion for when the time came.

  But for now, I kept it all hidden. My plan was simple: stay unnoticed, do what needed to be done, and keep my goals in sight.

  The First Step Toward the City:

  I drove my new car back to my small apartment, the hum of the engine almost therapeutic in its simplicity. The space I rented was bare, but I didn’t need much—just a place to sleep and a spot to keep things out of sight.

  The car wasn’t a symbol of wealth. It wasn’t for status. It was just a tool—one that would help me move faster, closer to my goal. It would be perfect for my trips into the city, for the meetings I would be attending soon enough.

  As I parked, I let out a slow breath. The car was mine. It felt good to take control again, but there was still much to do. I hadn’t made it yet.