Chapter Text
If this time last year, you’d have told me that I’d be touring the world with the biggest pop group in history, I’d have laughed in your face. And yet, here we were, days away from the group's twelfth tour– and the second tour in which I was a member.
When Juliana had left the group, and a new position for an American representative had opened up, my sister had been eager to encourage me to audition. I hadn’t thought I’d even get accepted into the trainees, and yet, I’d gone from trainee to finalist to member. And now I got to stand in front of the world, sharing my mother’s story.
It was twelve years ago that she went missing. Twelve years since then-ten-year-old me had last seen my mother. It wasn’t until earlier this year that my mother’s name– Wichahpi Akecheta– had become known to the public. It wasn’t until I made a name for myself and could spread her story. I was lucky enough to be able to do so, but I knew there’d be kids out there who would always be looking for answers and sharing stories they’d never be able to make known. I used to be one of them.
My mother’s story wasn’t hidden anymore. And being in this position now, being able to spread her story beyond the American borders, had made my hopes rise. Because if we ever had a chance at finding the truth, my career and new-found fame would be that chance.
An arm brushed against mine, and I took a quick glance to my right. Suryati had just taken a seat on the floor next to me. As far as our CEO knew, we were rehearsing for the tour, though we were doing anything but– we were all sitting around, talking to each other about whatever we had to talk about.
“Hey.” Suryati smiled at me. “I’m Suryati, if you don’t remember.”
“I know who you are,” I said. The truth was, in this group, I forgot a lot of members sometimes– Tasya and Erazem most notably. I’d only been here for a few months, and there were over seventy members to remember. But one member I knew for a fact I’d always know was Suryati.
“I don’t think we’ve ever had a proper conversation.” Suryati leaned forward, her long black hair falling over her shoulders. “You and I. I mean, you joined our group a few months ago, so I’m sure there’s some others you haven’t spoken to, but…” She paused, as if waiting for me to respond.
“I haven’t had a proper conversation with most members,” I confirmed. Maybe it was better this way. I’d been a fan before a member, and I knew that when members became popular with other members, it ended badly. I knew that Juliana left because she couldn’t let go of her friendship with Siying– an ex-member– and that hurt enough members that she was voted out, though I could understand for what reason they didn’t want a friend of Siying involved. I didn’t want to be the next one out of the group.
“I know what it’s like,” Suryati said. She knew what what was like? “You join this group in the place of the last member from your country, almost as if you’re a replacement– and until you’ve made your mark, that’s all you are to the fans. You take their position, and you’re expected to suddenly fit in. I didn’t fit in at first.” She looked down. “I’ve been here a few months, too.” She’d joined two months before I had, if I recalled correctly. “And I’m still just seen as the girl who they chose as Besariyanti’s replacement.”
“You’re a fan favourite,” I pointed out, “and you’re friends with a lot of the other members.”
She shrugged. “I adjusted, and I’m good at pretending I belong here.” I wanted to tell her she did belong here, but what did I know? “You know, I’d been in the group for two weeks when everything with Juliana went down. It wasn’t the way the media portrays it. The other members gave her so, so many opportunities. She said she wouldn’t cut Siying off, that they weren’t close but she wouldn’t cut her off because she didn’t want to hurt anyone.” She shook her head. “And that’s exactly how you hurt people. You try your hardest to not hurt anyone, so much so that you’re blind to why your friends don’t want mutual friends with a certain person.”
I wondered if perhaps she’d had a friend like that once.
“After that,” Suryati continued, “The search for the new American representative began, and a few weeks later, you were our new member. Maybe you’ll be the one to break the American curse.”
“The American curse?” I tilted my head slightly. What curse?
“One country. A group that’s only existed for five years. You’re the ninth member. And accounting for the fact that one of them was there for a whole year after she replaced Macaela, that makes you the seventh member in four years. You can’t tell me it isn’t cursed.”
I thought about it. Three of the representatives that came before me chose to leave. Four were removed. The other took her own life. Suryati did have a point. The only other country to have come close with our misfortune was Spain, and even then, Vianey was their fourth member in five years– and all three previous members had chosen to leave and held no negative will against the other members, even still being friends. In comparison to the other countries, America did seem cursed.
“You know,” Suryati continued. “As a member, and a fan, I’ll be honest when I say that I think you were the best representative that America could have.” Her hand reached out for just a second, as if she were debating touching mine, but she seemed to decide against it at the last minute. “The best type of person to represent America is a Native American. Perhaps the universe cursed the position until someone like you could fill it.”
Someone like you. A Native.
She shifted her position to properly look at me. “Indonesia’s a beautiful country,” she said. “So I’m happy that I get to be here, representing my home for all the little girls like me who never got to see their culture in the media. But I’ve barely been here longer than you, and some of the members have known each other for years. So, I’m just saying… you’re not alone. You’re not the only one that feels like an outsider, that feels as if you won’t make your country proud.”
I was about to respond when the door to the room opened and our manager stepped in, and all conversations were cut short. Chloe wasn’t the type of manager you’d expect– she was close to our age, and she almost certainly didn’t dress professionally. Today, she’d chosen light blue jeans and a beige sweater, her wavy blonde hair falling over her shoulders and resting on the sweater. What made her the most different to all other managers, however, was the fact that she never overworked us.
“Akicita.” She looked around the room until her eyes settled on me. “You’re requested in Adelheid’s office.” My heart almost stopped. Had I done something wrong? Was I about to be thrown out of the group? Was this the curse Suryati had spoken about?
Despite my panic, I became somewhat aware of a gentle hand on my arm. “You’ve got this,” Suryati whispered to me. “Whatever Adelheid wants you for, I’m sure it’s nothing bad."
“What’s this about?” Nouria called from across the room, where she sat on a bench with Siyu and some of the other female members. I recognised one of them as being Tasya, and another as Sirje. I couldn't remember if the final girl was Leitis or Sonia. “Is Akicita in trouble with Mommy? I will stage a protest if so.”
Maybe I did belong here, and the members wanted me here as much as I wanted to be here.
“I’ve told you to stop referring to Adelheid as Mommy at least six times in the last week alone, Nour,” Eshita said exasperatedly. “What’s the point in being a group leader if you don’t listen to me?”
Nouria shrugged. “What’s the point in having friends if I can’t annoy you all? Yelitza, remember the spider?”
“Fuck off, Nouria,” our Venezuelan representative responded almost instantly. I vaguely knew the spider story, though I hadn’t been in the group at the time.
“Excuse me.” Chloe raised her voice, and Nouria seemed to decide it was in her best interest to not verbally respond to Yelitza, so instead flipped her off. She received the same back. “What Adelheid wants to speak to Akicita for is personal business, and is in fact something I could not disclose even if I wished to.”
I could feel the eyes on me. What? In this company, secrets weren’t something we kept from each other. Adelheid wouldn’t have ever sworn anyone to silence, so what was it that was so important that Chloe couldn’t even hint at it for my fellow group members?
“Am I in trouble?” I said the words so quietly that Chloe couldn’t have heard me, but Suryati had the decency to ask the question for me.
“Quite the opposite,” Chloe responded. I wasn’t in trouble, but this was something that she couldn’t disclose. My first thought was that Dad, or worse, Ehawee, was hurt, that something had happened. At least I was in America, if so. A couple states away, but a flight would take less time than if I were abroad.
The last time a Frigg member had been called to Adelheid’s office and wasn’t in trouble, it’d been Thipphakone, and she’d become a leader. But she’d fit all the requirements to become a leader– I didn’t. I hadn’t been in the group for at least a year, and I wasn’t fluent in at least three languages. I hadn’t performed a minimum of thirty times, and I wasn’t ranking at a level twelve in all categories. And more importantly, I didn’t have what it took.
I stood up, my stomach twisting into knots, and followed Chloe out of the room and through the company building until we’d reached Adelheid’s office. Chloe knocked on the door twice, and Adelheid called for her to enter. She did, and I followed behind her.
“Akicita,” Adelheid greeted. “You have someone here to see you.”
I looked at the duo sitting across from her, both of which had turned to face me. Both of them were women, but one of them had long black hair with electric blue streaks whilst the other had shoulder-length blonde. The dark-haired girl wore a plain black t-shirt with black jeans and an equally black leather jacket, a couple badges pinned to it, with black doc boots. A skull necklace hung around her neck, and her earrings matched. She wore a silver ring with a black gemstone on her hand, a ring so elaborate that I had to assume she was either engaged or married.
The blonde wore similar clothes, though she wore no jacket so I could see her top was long-sleeved, and her jeans were grey, not black. She wore a more simple necklace.
“Good afternoon, Akicita.” The dark-haired girl greeted me first. I didn’t recognise her– I didn’t recognise the blonde woman, either.
“Who are you?” I asked. “Why are you here to see me?”
She took something out of her pocket that, at first, looked like a wallet, but as she flipped it open to hold it out to me, I realised it wasn’t a wallet. It was a badge, and upon seeing the words written there, my blood went cold.
Department of Investigation.
FBI.
Special Agent Sienna Briggs.
What the hell had I done to warrant a visit from the FBI?
“Is Ehawee okay?” I blurted out, before I could begin to think of other reasons the FBI might be here. “Is my Dad okay?”
“Your sister and your father are fine,” the other agent said, as she took out her own badge to show me. Eloise Czech.
I looked between the two agents, and then to Adelheid, who watched without any sort of expression that gave away how she felt or if she’d known prior that I would be getting a visit from the FBI, and then to Chloe. Neither of them gave me any clues as to why I was here.
“What the hell have I done to catch the attention of the FBI?” I questioned, as I tried to think of anything– anything– I’d done in the past few years that might have put the FBI on my tail.
“Well, for the last forty years, you’ve been able to catch the attention of an FBI agent just because they’re incapable of doing their job and want children to do it for them,” Agent Briggs responded in a tone that told me someone had in fact done this, and she wasn’t the biggest fan. “But, of course, you are an adult, and so that is not why we are here.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“We’ve all done something wrong,” Agent Briggs said, “but we aren’t here about anything you’ve done. This isn’t about you, Akicita.” It isn’t about me? If it wasn’t about me, what reason did they have to be interrupting my rehearsal? “It’s about your mother.”
Well, that was a good enough reason.
“My mother,” I repeated. My mother’s case had gone cold a long time ago, before it ever had the chance to catch the attention of the FBI. If the FBI was finally taking it on now, so long after it went cold, could that perhaps mean that there had been a new lead? “Is there a new lead?” I asked hopefully, but Agent Briggs shook her head.
“I’m afraid not.”
“It’s about my mother, but there’s no new leads?” This didn’t make sense. “The FBI doesn’t pick up twelve-year-old cold cases that were never on their radar to begin with for no reason.”
Agent Briggs shrugged. “There’s always an exception to the rules.”
“And you managed to get the Director to authorise you to look into this?” I wasn’t particularly knowledgeable when it came to the FBI, but I knew that they couldn’t look into cases without approval from the director.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did,” she answered.
She had to be lying. The FBI just didn’t reopen cold cases that were never theirs. With all the cases they could be looking into as we spoke, why reopen my mothers? As a celebrity, I knew I’d deal with the crazy fans who pulled whatever they could in order to get close to me– this had to be one of them.
But Adelheid wouldn’t have fallen for it, if it were fake. Adelheid would have insisted upon speaking to the director himself, upon seeing official documents, anything to prove that these two women were indeed agents before she even thought about letting them interact with me.
I’d give them the benefit of the doubt, for my mother’s sake.
“How did you do it?” I asked Agent Briggs. “You convinced the Director to authorise you to investigate a cold case from twelve years ago that was never the FBI’s.”
“What type of an agent would I be if I were to reveal my methods?” she smiled at me, a warm smile that told me I could perhaps trust her.
“If you want me to let you investigate my mother’s case, tell me.”
“Right. So, technically, you can’t really stop an FBI agent from doing their job, and it would be a crime to attempt to do so,” Agent Briggs pointed out, “You can’t really stop me investigating your mother’s case.”
“Akicita–” Adelheid spoke up for the first time, but I ignored her.
“You like to be in control,” I noted. Agent Briggs slightly tilted her head. “I can tell. Your partner hasn’t said much, and you’re leading the conversation. You’re looking into this partially for yourself, perhaps to prove yourself to someone, but you also want to look into this for me.”
Agent Briggs and Agent Czech exchanged a look.
“Natural.” I didn’t understand what Agent Briggs was talking about, but the way Agent Czech nodded told me she did. “I’ll have to report back to my father about this.”
“You still haven’t told me how you convinced the director,” I pointed out.
Agent Briggs turned her attention back to me. “Nepotism and bribery.” Of course. “Although he shouldn’t be, considering his history, my father is the Director. As it happens, I’ve just recently closed on a case, and I’ve found myself with some free time to spare. You’d be surprised what you can convince the man to authorise.”
“And you chose to spend it on my mother’s case, despite how long ago it was?” I questioned. “What’s the ulterior motive?” If I was correct, she wanted to prove herself to someone. With the new information I’d learned, I’d guess it was her father. But why specifically this case?
“There is no ulterior motive,” she answered. “We heard about your mother’s story– thanks to you– and we decided to make it an FBI issue and reopen the case to investigate it ourselves. It was difficult, even with nepotism and bribery, to convince my father to authorise this, but he’d rather me work on a case like this than something where the chances of an active threat are higher. I’ve been almost killed more times than I could count. I’ve been poisoned before, left in hospital for weeks. I did die once, and it took the medical professionals almost half an hour to bring me back. My parents aren’t too interested in pushing for another attempt on my life.”
I tried to imagine living Agent Briggs’ life. Her father was the Director. What was her mother? An agent? Was she involved with the FBI at all? Being the daughter of the Director, I could imagine how often she’d become a target of killers when they realised the FBI was trailing them. I could imagine the fear she’d grown up in, and I could imagine that now, she lived almost fearlessly because she’d learned that she would always be in danger and she couldn’t spend her life hiding from it.
“The local police couldn’t find anything.”
Agent Briggs exchanged yet another look with her colleague. I almost expected Agent Briggs herself to respond, but for once, it was Agent Czech. “The police, most likely, did not try hard enough,” she said. “If at all. You know as well as I do that because your mother is a Native, she would not receive the same attention that a white American would.”
I wanted to argue with her. I wanted to tell her no, that she was wrong, that they did try. But I knew it would be futile. She was right. And if she was right, that meant that there was a possibility of something to be found.
“The reason we flew here isn’t just to tell you that we’re looking into this case,” Agent Briggs said. “We wouldn’t have flown all the way to California if it were just to tell you. But we want to speak to you. We want to understand your version of events from the day your mother went missing.”