Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dinner days are good days,  Casey used to say that regularly as a self-promoting statement. They were days when Casey would get to be around people, where she would have meaningful activities and where she would always bring home delicious cake. These calorie bombs were not too popular at Anna's Diner, so the employees often took the leftovers home. 

Apart from the cake, her shifts were rather tiresome. She regretted that she had to change her pajamas for formal attire, was addressed as "sweetheart" throughout the evening, and had to treat each of these guys with kindness. Casey tried to wash the self-despair and listlessness off her face. One look in the mirror was enough to know that she would be late again. She looked like a zombie in that state. Her dark hair stood out in all directions except downwards. It cost Casey a lot of nerves to get it in shape and to shake off the bedhead-look that didn't suit her. Even though she didn't care much about what her guests thought of her dark circles under the eyes, she knew it was important to Jerry, the owner. After all, she hadn't gotten the job as a waitress because she had extraordinary qualifications. A halfway decent hairstyle and a little bit of make-up were enough to land the contract. 

With one ear, she listened to the news that was broadcast on her old radio. "Last Thursday a stabbing took place right in the capital. The authorities are still investigating whether the suspect is a semi-god."  Semi-god , Casey smiled every time she heard that term. Semi-gods were called those who had so-called  superhuman powers  - half-god, half-human. People with abilities similar to Kevin Wendell Crumb's. After the video footage of the events outside the mental institution was released, the world turned on its head. Everyone tried to be a superhero. The Internet was flooded with videos of women lifting cars to save their children and idiotic actions in which teenagers got injured or even died. The world wanted to know who the people behind the original video were and learn their story. Some tried to explain the events scientifically. Casey followed the trend for some time but was quickly overcome by a nostalgia that shook her.

The radio mumbled to itself, a discussion dragged on sluggishly, the woman didn’t listen. 

She frowned. 

If neither make-up from a drugstore nor coffee could conceal the traffic accident in her face, then it was time to give up. One last time she pulled her top up and opened the door swinging. She strolled to the front door, as smooth as a cat, but not without turning off the radio and fishing for her sneakers. The battered staircase with its creaky wooden steps and the musty smell of damp walls was always deserted at this time of day. Means Casey was late for her shift.  

Half an hour later, Casey was standing outside the restaurant.  Anna's Diner , which actually belonged to Jerry Winter, with its 50s BonBon colors that did not fit at all into the cityscape of the desolate concrete environment. The long-faded baby blue that adorned the frame of the room-high windshield still stood out between the dark office buildings at any time of day. No one could overlook the diner. It was something special. 

From the outside, Casey already recognized a few regulars who were studying the menu for the 1000th time or staring at their grayish cell phone screens instead of talking to each other. It was always the same scenario. They were like zombies that only became human after a coffee. 

Work was already underway, but a glance at her leather watch told her that she was keeping to the reasonable delay time. 

As usual, when she entered the diner through the employees’ entrance, she was the last one. That wasn't difficult by the way, because there was only one other waitress next to her on the evening shift. 

She was a very well proportioned Canadian girl who often delighted the male guests with her accent. Her tipping was terrific, Casey was almost a bit jealous that she didn't even get half of her money.

"Casey, move! A customer's waiting!" Jerry, who had the stature of a rain barrel and similar charm, was not only her boss but also the heart of the kitchen. He rarely came out of there, so Casey was surprised to find him suddenly standing in the doorway of the staff area. "Oh? My fans are early today." Even surprised by her good mood, she stashed her bag in her locker and reached for her apron with her other hand. "Fans, admirers... I don't really care. The fact is, the guy just wants to be served by you, and if he doesn't, he'll just take a table from someone who would pay. I don't want any drama here, Casey." And with that, Jerry was gone. All she heard was him mumbling something incomprehensible. He was just like her, not too happy about exhausting guests and a bad shift start. 

She tied up her work uniform and a few moments later she was standing in the guest area of the diner. There she got a first overview of the clientele and immediately spotted the man who expressly asked for her. He seemed very inconspicuous at first sight: with his white shirt and pitch-black suit vest and the likewise black loosened tie. 

He was sitting alone at a window seat, his eyes fixed on the card in his hands. He wore his dark blond hair neatly curled back, while the sides were shaved briefly. Nevertheless, he did not look like one of those guys from the banks and stock exchange from the nearby financial district. They were all little princes with bright white teeth. They tried harder in front of the mirror than Casey had ever done in her entire life. 

 The stranger's posture made him look more like someone from the military, but why he wanted to be served by her of all people was not clear to her. 

For a second she wondered if they hadn't met before, but she would have remembered someone like him. He would stick out of the pool of her memory like a pink unicorn at a metal concert.

Determined, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, put on a friendly smile, and pulled the notepad out of her apron at the same time. 

"Good evening and welcome to Anna's Diner. I am Casey, your waitress. Can I get you anything?" She was hoping he would order. Even if it was just a glass of water or a coffee. If he didn’t, she'd have to swap the role of the friendly waitress for the bouncer, and she liked that role even less.  

"How are your desserts?" he asked, without looking up from the menu. 

"Excellent, of course," Casey replied promptly. 

"Okay, so let's be honest:  How are your desserts ?" She blinked irritatedly, but half-heartedly tried to hold up her smile, which he ignored. 

"Listen, everything you get here is good. It's not a five-star restaurant, as Jerry likes to claim, but you're not going home with food poisoning." 

 Her tone sounded more impatient than it should have been towards a customer. For a moment Casey wondered if she had hit her customer on the head with it because he had his eyes still fixed on the menu. But then he finally ordered. Casey was relieved when her customer decided to have cheesecake and coffee. Sugar and a bitter wake-up-drink, she was able to grant his wish quickly. 

Even though she could clearly see Jerry's questioning look in the hatch between the kitchen and the counter, she only unwittingly waved her hand.  No idea why he only wanted to be served by me , she gestured to her boss, who only said: “There are some crackpots!“, crunched his nose and turned to the next order.

Casey quickly gathered everything for the order and served it to the stranger. "One coffee, black, and the best cheesecake in town." Her guest looked up for the first time and inspected her from head to toe. Well, at least it was a reaction. 

"Can I get you anything else?" 

"Keep my company," he asked her, pointing to the empty seat opposite him. 

He didn't give the impression of taking  no  for an answer. Such men were always suspicious to her, but since the surroundings were no dark alley and she wanted to know what was behind this  you-are-the-only-person-capable-of-serving-me , she accepted his invitation. "You have five minutes." With one last look at the kitchen, she sat down on the bench. She didn’t think Jerry would be too pleased if he saw that she preferred to chat with guests rather than serving them. The baby blue seat cushion gave way beneath her with a tiny sigh. 

"What do you want from me?" she asked scathingly. 

A smile made his lips twitch. He watched her with dark brown eyes that radiated both curiosity and exhaustion. He was out of his 20s if she was not mistaken, but not for too long. First small wrinkles appeared around his eyes, but still, he possessed a young charisma. 

“You were nicer a minute ago, Casey.“ The stranger picked up the pie fork to boldly thrusting it into the cheesecake. Casey watched as he sliced the bite with relish. Judging by the sounds he made, he was very happy with his order. 

"Tell me, what's it like here? Do you only work evening shifts or early shifts too?" He took a sip of coffee and set out to add another piece to his destiny.

Casey, on the other hand, crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned back into the cushion of the seat. „Both."

"Mm, I see. And are you going home alone?" 

 "Why do you want to know that? Are you some kind of pervert who wants to ambush me? I wouldn't recommend it.“ She bent over and put her arms on the table. Her guest seemed unimpressed but wouldn't let her out of his sight. "I'm not some helpless damsel in distress that you can mug in an alley." He took a sip of coffee and declared with a smile: "I'm just making conversation with you." 

Casey's face didn't even flicker. He paused before he continued.

"Has anything strange ever happened to you, Casey? Something you couldn't explain?" She hadn't seen this question coming, and a little smile appeared on her lips when she realized that he was probably just a weird guy who knew her from the videotape with the Beast. If he was just one of those conspiracy theorists or even an editor, no threat, then she had no reason to keep his company any longer. Either way, she needed to get back to work soon anyway. She looked at the kitchen once more and cleared her throat, then leaned forward and whispered. "Do you mean something stranger than this conversation? I think the prize goes to you." Casey tried to avoid any confrontation with inquisitive people, she didn't like talking about her past. The stranger grinned and turned to the scraps on his plate. 

During the silence, Casey wondered if this was her chance to get up. However, it was difficult for her to mentally break away from this situation. It had been a long time since she had met anyone who recognized her as  the survivor.  

As her customer ate the cake and drank the coffee, always in the same order, she got hypnotized. "What would be the strangest thing that could happen to me?“, she asked him but also herself, while her eyes followed the same sequence that was always happening in front of her. Her guest shrugged his shoulders. "You must know that a lot is going on right now. People suddenly have superpowers. It's crazy. Have you ever met one of those freaks?" Casey stared at him for a moment just to read his facial expressions, but his expression was blank as if he was trying to get a certain reaction out of her with the question. She swallowed before answering, "Occasionally. Anyone can be one of those ' freaks ' these days. What about you?" She stretched the word "freaks" in a derogatory tone. Not condescending the semi-gods, but the person she was talking to. He resisted her piercing gaze and repeated her words in response to her question, "Occasionally." 

Casey's had enough. This conversation was becoming exhausting and far too long-winded. He probably belonged to some pseudo-religious sect and wanted to give her subliminal sermons about the imminent end of the world. "Well, have a nice -" Before Casey could get up from the bench the strange gentleman interrupted her. "What do you mean, when you say ‚ not a damsel in distress‘ ? And don't tell me you're just walking around with pepper spray in your pocket." She had expected a lot, but this question overwhelmed her for a moment. Then Casey put her elbows on the tabletop right in front of the man's face. It was an unmistakable invitation to arm wrestle. "Go ahead," she incited him. "I'm not gonna hurt you too much." 

Her guest, who obviously couldn't refuse, did the same and put a hand on hers. His grip was strong and Casey knew he would be a tough nut. "On three. One... two... three!" 

And the next second, she pushed one forearm onto the tabletop with a loud bang. That drew attention to Casey and her guest. The latter rubbed his wrist with widened eyes while she couldn't help but enjoy the blossoming sensation of success in her chest. "Impressive. At least you don't have to be afraid at night." She shrugged her shoulders. Before she could say anything in return, she heard Jerry angrily shouting her name throughout the diner. "CASEY! You're paid to work, not socialize!" Horror and strained nerves mixed as she flinched. She had challenged her luck, and shown a funny guy that she could fight back. Deep down, she thought it was worth her boss's scolding. Casey got up, twisted her wrist, nodded at the stranger, and went back to work. While she turned to other tables, she kept looking at the stranger, who first ate his cake and then went to used his cell phone for the rest of his time. After serving a sandwich to a guest at the bar, she looked at the window seat where the two of them were sitting before. The stranger was gone. 

Her colleague nudged her from the side. "Here, he left this for you," she said and pressed money and a business card into her hand. Casey sorted the money for the order into the waiter's wallet and then began to count her tips. This was the most expensive cheesecake in the world. She had probably received more tips from one person than her colleague had received from all the guests she served daily. She slipped the money into the pocket of her jeans and examined the business card, which she glanced and waved with narrowed eyes. The black front contained only one name: Ethan Rivers, and a cell phone number. The white back, however, was written in blue ballpoint pen:  In case anything strange happens.

Typical, spidery men's handwriting - nevertheless legible. 

Her colleague grinned broadly. "You must have an admirer, Casey," she said in her accent-rich voice.

Casey ignored her.  Strange guy  went through her mind before she also stuffed the card into her jeans pocket and forgot the rest of the shift that it was there. 

Dinner days were also days when she had to work overtime because the shift change came too late. This often happened because Sergio was neither punctual nor reliable, nor did he have a legal work permit. He came and went as he had time. Jerry didn't care. He believed that the staff must organize themselves. Admittedly, it was an advantage when you had something important to do. Even if Casey was often late, he didn't care, as long as someone was working. Due to Sergio's absence, Casey often stayed until the last guest left the store. By now she didn't even bother about it anymore since her private life wasn't harmed by the unreliability of others, which even surpassed her own. 

"Will you take out the garbage?" Jerry pulled her from her thoughts. "Of course, if you give Sergio a heartfelt thank you for his efforts today from me." Jerry rolled his eyes. Typical. Inwardly irritated Casey lifted the two full garbage bags and strutted to the back entrance. 

The mild breeze of the night immediately enveloped Casey. The sun was long gone and left only a night sky behind. The air, however, was neither too warm nor too cold, even at this time of night, she still had the feeling she could do something useful. The alley behind the diner, however, did not allow for much creativity. The high brick wall opposite the door had come down, parts of the fire ladder had been removed - probably to protect against burglars and troublemakers. Three large garbage cans lined up along the wall. She opened a lid and a sweet, foul stench got into her nose. Disgusted, she made a disgusted face and quickly threw in one sack after another. With a loud clatter, she let the lid close and wiped her hands on her trousers, feeling her full pocket again. She remembered her strange customer and pulled his business card out again. She read his little handwritten note again and even muttered along " In case something strange happens."  

Casey turned around and was just about to take one last step into the diner when she realized in the dim light of the alley was a long shadow that stretched in her direction. Shivering crept across her back and her curiosity triumphed as she concentrated hard to capture the initial shape of the shadow. 

Her eyes widened, perhaps this was  something strange.

Chapter Text

In the dim light of the alley, Casey recognized a long shadow cast by some kind of creature. A tall man in a dark coat stood there, the mouth had grown together, his piercing red eyes and long coral-like fingernails didn't escape her notice. Casey couldn't help but grab hold of the edge of the trash can. She wanted Jerry or someone else here just to ask, "Do you see this too?"

Well, she saw it. Casey saw it.

Even the two long horns on that deformed skull and a tail with a razor-sharp triangle whipping back and forth ready to attack.

She saw this, assuming it was all real. Relief spread through her when the thought came to her that all this was just a hallucination or even a dream. Perhaps she had fallen asleep in the staff room or slipped on the maple syrup stain behind the diner counter and hit her head? There was no other explanation for this phenomenon. She pinched herself so hard in the arm that she shouted "Ow" in indignation. But at least it brought her back down to earth.
Whatever was in front of her was no semi-god or at least nothing she had seen before. In small steps, Casey moved backward. Her only salvation was the employee entrance, whose door was still open and inviting. The creature tilted its head, with reddishly glowing eye sockets, and scraped the floor with its feet like hooves. The starting signal was given by Casey when she accidentally kicked an empty glass bottle and rolled it away into the back of the alley. With its horns pointed at her, the monster ran towards her. With a wide pike jump, Casey just managed to avoid the monster and push herself against the trash cans. There was a loud bang as the monster collided with the door and the door slammed shut - mingled with a shrill scream.

That's it. That blocked the escape route from the alley.

Helplessly, Casey looked around, hoping to find something useful to defend herself with. But there was no metal pipe or rock within reach.
There was only trash, and she didn't have time to search it, because her attacker had collected himself and targeted his victim in the meantime.

His tail, nervously twitching back and forth to try to catch her, seemed as dangerous to Casey as the pointed horns. The creature swung it out again and shot straight at her. Casey skillfully jumped to the side and out of the corner of her eye she saw how close she was to the blade. The more he pushed her into the back alley, the more she missed possible escape routes. She became a much easier victim. Clever beast.

Casey ran out of options when she pressed her back against the wall at the end of the alley. She was now outside the light radius of the diner. Whatever Casey planned in this situation was suicidal and risky, but doing nothing meant certain death. For a moment, Casey regretted her delayed reaction - it was the moment his tail pulled back. She was too slow for the tip of his tail but it only bumped into the crumbling wall right next to her and slit a deep hole in it. The tail then blindly reached out for her again and again, but only hit the surrounding wall. Each of her muscles tensed up and she held her breath, too. It was not clear to her whether the creature could not track her in the shadow of the alley or through her motionlessness, but she would not risk her life to find out. The sweat stopped and also the creature's movements slowed down. It adapted to the circumstances, almost as if it was listening to its surroundings.

Instinctively, Casey wanted to slowly give in to her wobbly knees and the urge to breathe. She had felt that kind of fear and flight when the beast chased her. She felt cornered again, this time by an attacker she didn't know or thought she knew. One last time the tail swung out far and headed straight for her belly. The speed was inhuman and Casey's quick breath pressed the air into her lungs. She could almost feel a pain in her spine at that moment, but the sting stopped right in front of her belly. Her loud and choppy breaths drowned in the creature's subsequent scream. Without moving a muscle, Casey watched as the monster made horrible, painful, distorted sounds, grabbed its head, and scratched open his deformed temples with his fingers. Finally, he tore off a patch of skin that encased his mouth. Under the shimmering light, she could see blood dripping from his chin. It wobbled from wall to wall, almost like a drunkard, and suddenly the narrow alley seemed even more cramped. With quick steps, the creature tramped towards the main street. Cars honked and tires screeched. Breathlessly, Casey stared after the cattle until it disappeared completely from her visibility. "Holy sh*t..." she muttered exhausted. Her knees finally gave away as she stared into the distance and then caught a glimpse of the patch of skin the beast had left behind.
It was the only proof of what had just happened.
The only proof that she wasn't crazy.

Never before had Casey been so happy to close the door behind her in her apartment. She didn't like the neighborhood the house was in. Here lived the part of the population that was too rich to die and too poor for the upper class. Her home looked like that. There was a draught through the windows in winter, under the front door there was a crack through which you could see the shadows of passing neighbors. The floorboards creaked and competed with every horror movie, while the dark wallpaper gradually earned the title Historic.
"That's the ancient charm ", Casey's favorite description of the kitchen, which was already in danger of falling apart. Though she tried her best to make the most of it, the apartment was a complete dump. But it was her dump and all she had. Her flat was not very big, but more affordable than in other districts, so it was practically luxury.

After long days of work like this, she sat on the sofa, which already smelled of mothballs when she took over the apartment years ago. Usually, she watched some talk show or animal documentary, in which semi-gods were not the center of attention, with a cool drink and a pizza.

Everything was different that night.

Casey muttered thoughtfully as she changed her clothes, brewed a tea, and then sat down at her round dining table, with the creature's skin and blood on the center of it. No matter how long she looked at it, to her, it was just a piece of skin.
She took the cup with the chipped piece of ceramic and led it to her lips. The herbal tea soothed her, but after what she had seen, nothing really helped. In her mind's eye, the scenario played out the same way over and over again, no matter how many times she tried to explain what happened logically. As incredible as it seemed, she knew supernatural things, even if she tried to suppress them from her life. It was also a fact that nobody would believe her and if she had more sense than luck, she would not risk arrest for wasted police resources or even a transfer to an institution. She clasped the teacup with her hands so as not to drum nervously on the tabletop with her fingers. Should she banish this creature to the back of her head, stamp it as a hallucination, and go to her next shift as if nothing had happened? Should she just leave this night as a hangover or even put it off for overwork?
She had been avoiding everything that reminded her of the Beast for some time, but could she play to be so ignorant again? What else could she do?

As if something stung her, she jumped up, cursing as she banged her leg on the table, and ran in the direction of her bedroom. After two minutes of loud rustling, she jogged back into her bright living room, which was also the kitchen and dining room. With too much momentum she slammed the card in her hand on the dining table, which creaked threateningly under the force of the violence. She beamed at the business card from the diner, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed the cell number.
"Let's see if this is weird enough for Mr. Rivers."

Casey was tossing and turning. Every time she tried to fall asleep, she saw the red eyes of the creature that seemed to look deep into her soul. Casey didn't like it at all. No one should be able to do so, let alone something whose existence she couldn't understand. Was it a semi-god? Is this the development of a person who aspired to become something greater? Would it have been possible for the beast to deform itself in such a way with mere faith?

It was thoughts like these that brought Casey into the living room in the middle of the night. While she made herself comfortable on the sofa, Casey tried to block out the events of the past hours. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at the not-so-fresh skin that still lay on her dining table. She would have rather chopped off her hand than put it on her bedside table or even touch it again, so it stayed there. She would have loved to go and ask Ethan Rivers all the questions that went through her mind. But for that, she would have to wait until the next day. Only after she had described to him in detail what the creature looked like, Ethan gave her a time and an address. Sighing, she had stared at the address which she had quickly noted down. According to the Internet, it was an IT company that has completely rented out the entire building. Apart from the information the website offered, photos conveyed the impression that the store was a labyrinth of corridors, there was nothing else of interest. Casey had hummed thoughtfully and supported her head on the palm of her hand.
She knew that going back to bed would not bring her any sweet dreams. So she sat on the couch and stared at the blue screen in front of her. It wasn't until she had been through the nightly talk shows, advertisements for erotic hotlines, and the replay of an old nineties sitcom that her eyes got tired and she fell asleep.

Casey knew that this would be an exhausting day when her alarm clock ripped her from her dream. She jumped up, felt a pulling pain in her neck, and instantly regretted that she had fallen asleep on the sofa. Tired, she groped for the alarm clock and struck it several times with her hand. It rattled loudly and suddenly there was silence. She sank back into her original position and closed her eyes. Five minutes. After that, she would be ready to face this new day.
A few minutes later, another alarm went off in the distance. Normally Casey was known as an early riser, but on days like this, it was difficult to get her to get up, so she always set her cell phone alarm as a double safeguard. "Only 5 more minutes!" she yelled over the noise, but the alarm didn't listen to her, so she sighed and changed position, trying to ignore the noise.
After a few seconds, she stood up cursing and followed the ringing into her room. To be woken up like that almost bordered on torture. The plastic case of her old cell phone cracked and the screen died instantly when she turned off the alarm.
Casey oriented herself and realized that it was just after 8. More minutes passed until she remembered the night before and the fact that in a few hours she would be a little closer to the truth.

Only after a coffee, however, did she have the strength to get ready.
Casey wiped her face with her hands and stared into the mirror. She was only twenty-four but felt fifty that morning. After freshening up a few minutes longer than usual, she put on a pair of simple jeans and a tight dark top, slipped into her sneakers and stuffed her cell phone, keys, and a rag in which the now dry skin rested, into a brown shoulder bag. Even though the view from her small window suggested that the day would be sunny and warm, she grabbed her Philadelphia Zoo jacket and put it on. As soon as she wore it everything got a frame - a purpose. To others, Casey couldn't describe the feeling, but this jacket gave meaning to her everyday life. It reminded her that she was stronger than she thought and that she didn't have to hide. It's exactly what Casey needed on a day like today. She looked at her leather wristwatch. Time was running out. If it didn't start in a few minutes, she'd probably be late.

On her way to the front door, Casey repeated her to-do's going over and over again: "Go to the rendezvous point, meet Mr. Rivers, get answers, don't get fobbed off." It didn't sound so hard. Were it not for Ethan Rivers' erratic reaction.

She left the apartment in the direction of the subway, which was to take her to the meeting point. From her apartment to the meeting point it took about 2 hours to walk, by car, which she did not own, it would be no less in road traffic, so she preferred the train, thus halving the time she would be on the road.
Casey hated the subway. By this time, it was as crowded, stuffy, and noisy as the streets above. Each of her fellow human beings wanted to get to work or to the corners where it was expensive and beautiful. Everyone around her was armed with at least a coffee cup, owned a current issue of the city newspaper, or use their cell phone. There was just as little room for interpersonal relationships as there was for passengers.
The city was a living being. The closer you came to the city center, the more restless it became. People ran from one place to the next, usually with their shoulders raised and their eyes fixed on the ground. Typical big-city behavior, as Casey found. She on the other hand never looked down and never raised the shoulders. Instead, she stared extensively and shamelessly at the people who approached her or sat opposite from her. She loved to study others in her way. This was her reward for squeezing herself between smelly and rude people.
But this morning was different. Her thoughts wandered constantly, she was nervous about the strange meeting and the even stranger incident.
As she got off the train and ran up the steps towards daylight, Casey accidentally bumped into a woman in a business suit. She was lucky that the strangers' coffee didn't spill over her top. Apologetically, Casey raised her hand and ignored the curses that were cast upon her.
She came out at an intersection and found herself surrounded by the oldest buildings in the city - right in the heart.
While the newer buildings had modern glass fronts, the older ones were ornate and playful. Small Roman columns, stone figures looking down on people as if they were just ants and abstract forms. Two street corners and far too many people later, Casey stood in front of the IT company - the address Ethan Rivers had given her.
Her eyes wandered up the dark wall. The long spire towered into the sky like scrawny claws, while the metal swirl grids in front of the window made the building look like a prison. On small ledges of the wall, gargoyles lined up, their faces grimacing eerily. The building with the gloomy aura was a work of art and every time Casey looked up again, she fell in love with it.

She was a good quarter of an hour late, practically on time by her standards. Far and wide she saw among the other suits, no one who resembled Ethan Rivers. For another 10 minutes, she stood in front of the building before she let out an annoyed sigh. Then she opened the double glass door of the building. Cool air-conditioning air struck her, reminding her how humid and oppressive the morning air already was.
The entrance area of the tower quickly made her forget the heat. Elements in dark gold and brown tones adorned the balustrades, elevator doors, and ceilings in various patterns. The height of the room, which Casey could not estimate, had something heavy and oppressive about it. Everything looked noble and expensive, even the marble floor she walked on. Like a child in a candy store, she once turned on her own axis to see all the beauty. Among all the modern styles of interior design that would scream 'Buy me!' in a catalog, it was always the old and gloomy styles that fascinated her.

"There you are." Casey turned her head toward the voice.
To Casey's surprise, it belonged to the suit-man from the diner. Before she could answer, Ethan was standing in front of her. "Casey, glad you could make it. I've been waiting for you." A friendly smile adorned his thin lips. Casey returned his welcoming gesture with a firm handshake. "I've been waiting for you outside." She held his gaze while his skin felt pleasantly warm, while her fingers could compete with a block of ice. "Outside? But we were in here... Never mind. Let's not waste time. If you'll just follow me." Ethan's hand gestured to indicate the way to one of the elevators by the side entrance.
"I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me why and what I was attacked by last night." Ethan's smile was getting a little overpowering. "You're very impatient."
"I had to wait all night to meet you. Believe me, I've been very patient so far."
"Then give me a chance to explain things calmly, as soon as we are in a less public place." He pointed his thumb at the huge windows that looked directly into the entrance hall. All he got in response was a huff from Casey. Even if she didn't like it, she had to realize that dealing with such a subject in the middle of the lobby was too delicate.
She rolled her eyes when he asked her again to follow him.
Together they entered the elevator, which was just as chic from the inside as from the outside.
Casey's forehead had wrinkled.

Next to all the glamour, she wasn't feeling very comfortable. She hoped that the subsequent conversation would provide the revelation she had hoped for.