23. Why can’t attorneys just talk normal?
WHY CAN’T ATTORNEYS JUST TALK NORMAL?
Lor
I sleep terribly the first night Ro is in jail, and I’m up with the sun the next morning. A first for me. I have no idea if his attorney bought my story, but I’m moving forward with my plan either way. If there’s anything I can do to diminish his sentence or help prove him innocent, I’ll do it.
Finn calls that afternoon telling me to come down to the club, that he found someone who can help, so that’s where I’m headed after getting lost for hours on the internet again. I managed to at least wash my face and brush my hair before I left, but I can’t say the rest of me is well taken care of.
“Lor, hey,” Finn says, waving me to the back room when I walk in. He motions to a slight figure leaning against the far wall. “This is XingXing, they/them. I’ll just let you two work things out back here, yeah?”
“Sure, thanks Finn. I know this puts you in a tough spot, but I appreciate your help.”
He nods, a conflicted look of worry and relief lining his face as he backs out and closes the door behind him. I wonder for the millionth time if I’m doing the right thing as I take in their casual t-shirt, chin length black hair, and the graceful way they slide into a chair.
“So, what can I help you with?” XingXing asks. They clasp their hands in front of them and cross their legs, the picture of nonchalance.
I eye them warily, questioning if I can really trust this person. I’ve been weighing the risks all morning, going back and forth in my head. The risks of trusting them… And the risks if I don’t.
I’m willing to sacrifice my secret if I need to, it’s worth it to save Ro from what would surely be a lifetime sentence in the supernatural prison. Supernaturals aren’t given a second chance, and they’re not given lenient sentences either.
I pinch my lips, hating the deal I’m about to offer, but deep down I’ve already decided. When it comes down to it, there’s no other option.
“I need you to help me clear someone’s name. I gave myself as an alibi, but…”
“Let me guess,” their mouth quirks up in a wry grin. “They did something bad and you need the footage scrubbed?”
“Yes.” I sigh, slumping with relief that they said it and not me.
“Alright,” XingXing says, pulling out a laptop and plugging a black box into it. “I need the details. Where, when, who, anything else relevant, so I know where to start looking.”
They type and click as I talk, dark brown eyes flicking across the screen as they do… whatever it is hackers do. When they run out of questions and I run out of information, they settle back in their seat and cross their arms.
“I’ll need payment.”
“Right.” I bite my lip. I knew this moment was coming. I can do this. “How much will it be?”
The number they give makes my eyes pop. I take a deep breath, then do the one thing I swore I’d never again do.
“Do you accept payment other than cash? Like, what if I had something valuable to trade?”
The hacker tilts their head, hair swaying with the movement, but their eyes don’t leave mine. “Depends what it is.”
I suck in a shaky breath, steeling myself, then blurt it out.
“I can pay with stardust.”
XingXing freezes. They don’t even blink as they stare at me, then their eyes flit between mine.
It’s only now I consider that they may not know the value of what I’m offering.
I tense, kicking myself internally for being so stupid as I hope I didn’t just ruin everything.
If they think I’m crazy, or don’t believe me, or…
My lip hurts from how much I’ve been chewing on it, and my leg starts to bounce under the table as I wait for their answer.
“How?”
I gulp, and my eyes dart around the stacked liquor boxes in the back room of the club.
Does that mean they do know about stardust?
And that they believe I can get some? Their stoic expression gives nothing away, but I’ve already started down this path, so I might as well see where it goes.
I don’t have many choices other than to trust them.
For Ro.
I lean forward and lower my voice. “I’m a star-chaser,” I whisper.
XingXing must know we’re real, because they don’t look surprised. It’s only slightly reassuring.
“Prove it.”
“I—what?”
“If you’re as you say, and you can pay with stardust, I want proof that I’m not being scammed.”
Now, it’s my turn to stare. How am I supposed to prove that?
“Um, I could…” I shake my head and my entire body slumps. “I don’t know how to prove it,” I whisper, defeated.
Their eyes narrow, but XingXing doesn’t look put off as they continue to eye me for long moments. I take one breath, two, feeling like an ant under a microscope when they finally speak again.
“Tell me what it feels like.”
How would that… Wait, are they also a star-chaser? Or do they know someone like me? My heart rate kicks up a notch.
“It’s, well, do you mean like, when I get the urge to follow the stars? Or just like… being a star-chaser in general? Because that doesn’t feel too much different from what regular people feel, I don’t think at least—”
“Star-chasing,” they interrupt. “What does following your ancestral gift feel like?”
My ancestral gift? I nearly scoff, but manage to hold it in. I’ve never heard it referred to in such generous terms before.
“Uh, it feels like this urge that I can’t deny.
A pull like something is hooked into me, into who I am inside, dragging me toward the fallen star.
If I ignore it… well. I can’t ignore it, not really.
The pull just gets worse and worse, and I can’t help but follow it no matter how much I try not to.
But once I give in, then I guess it doesn’t feel too bad.
It’s just a sense of urgency, like I’m needed somewhere really important and I’m almost late so I have to rush, but no matter how fast I go, there’s no getting there on time.
And then when I do find it… I normally ignore how that feels, to be honest.”
XingXing nods slowly, a thoughtful look on their face.
“Why wouldn’t you want to?”
I blink at them. “What?”
“You said you try not to follow it sometimes. Why?”
“Because… because it’s a curse. Because I hate being unable to control it. Because it has killed everyone in my family.”
They make a noncommittal humming noise, their eyes squinting as they take me in, but then jerk their chin once.
“Alright, agreed. One scavenging of stardust—no matter how much or how little, I want it in its entirety—in exchange for my help in clearing and covering all of these feeds.”
They turn their computer around and show me a number of video stills of Ro on his bike in various parts of town the night of the fire. Then they click to another screen with more video stills, and then a third with another click.
“Shit, what was he doing?” I mutter under my breath.
“Trying to lose any tail that might have been on him, I assume,” XingXing replies, spinning the laptop back around. “Lucky for your friend, there was no one tracking him. He got in and out clean, apart from these videos.”
“And you can take care of all that? Make it look like he was with me all night?”
“Yeah, I can. It’ll be done tonight. I’ll contact you to collect the payment.”
Before I can reply, they snap the laptop shut, slide it into their bag, and are striding out the door.
I hope I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my life.
Two Weeks Later
I’m a jittery ball of nerves, an anxious wreck, and I need to get it together if I’m going to do any good for Ro today. It’s his court date, and his attorney seems optimistic.
She’s been drilling me all week on questions and counter questions. I think there are proper terms she used, but I can’t remember them. All I know is I’m going to testify as a witness that Ro was with me all night, and I’ll be questioned by both his legal team as well as the prosecution.
She says I’m ready, I just hope I can keep my story straight, and that Ro doesn’t say anything to dispute it.
I’m also feeling slightly nauseous at the thought of facing the big boss man, or whoever they send in his place.
He hasn’t contacted me at all over the last two weeks, but I have caught glimpses of his goons hanging around.
I suspect he’s waiting to see how this trial turns out before delivering whatever horrendous punishment he’s cooked up for me.
I won’t let my mind go there. I need to be focused on Ro right now. I have to trust that he’ll still want me after this; that despite his efforts at being a good person, he won’t hold it against me that I’m lying for him, essentially forcing him to as well.
Lying in court, no less.
I cringe. It’s really not a good look. Best case scenario, it appeals to his demon side, and he appreciates my efforts to protect him in return. Worst case… nope, not going there either.
When I step into the courtroom, the chilly air sends goosebumps up my arms. My fingers reveal a slight tremble, and I clench my hands behind my back in an attempt to look strong, confident, anything other than what I’m feeling right now, which is like I’m about to puke.
The buzzing of the air conditioner is loud in my ears, or perhaps that’s just my nerves drowning out the murmurs of the prosecution as their cold eyes track me.
Ro’s attorney nods, her fierce glasses and mile-long heels giving me a confidence boost. Just having her on our side feels like a win, and I hope it translates to one at the end of the day, too.
When they march Ro into the courtroom, my breath hitches in my chest. He looks haggard, like he hasn’t seen the sun in years and isn’t eating enough.
No makeup, no silver jewelry, no colorful clothing.
Then his eyes meet mine, and a part of me relaxes while another part low in my stomach tightens.
His hazel eyes sparkle despite the tense situation, and he grins my favorite lopsided grin.
My heart pinches in my chest when I realize how much I’ve missed him.