Chapter 13: Face-Slapping Who?
Puff
A plume of smoke drifted into the air.
Beside the end of the left stairway of Allen's apartment, a familiar woman leaned against the wall, staring into the distance.
Tsk.
She clicked her tongue, tossing the cigarette onto the floor.
"I really need a boyfriend."
Her feet scraped against the ground as she stepped on the cigarette, then twisted.
With a sigh, she pulled out another cigarette and her lighter.
Just as she was about to light it, she froze.
"Huh?"
Her gaze, once fixed on the cigarette, now shifted to a man walking down the stairs.
She felt her chest flutter as her face flushed crimson.
'A… A hot guy, or pretty…' she stifled a squeal. 'I think I'm in love.'
She tossed the cigarette pack and lighter behind her and stepped forward.
"Uhmm… I didn't know someone like you lived here."
The young woman's words snagged in her throat as the man stared at her with cold, disdainful eyes.
Eyes she knew all too well.
The same eyes she once used on that bastard Allen Vanderbilt.
But she wasn't him, right?
She was pretty.
She forced out a trembling smile. "I didn't know someone as handsome as you lived here."
The man tilted his head, and that single gesture alone made her feel feverish.
"What the hell are you saying?"
His voice was sharp, but it carried an intoxicating edge.
A smooth, soft baritone that wasn't too deep.
'I can't let this guy slip away. Even one night would be enough.'
She moved a step closer to the man with pinkish-red hair and eyes. "Are you perhaps dating? If not, then can we…"
Before she could finish, the man cut her off with a raised hand.
"Why would I?"
She took another hesitant step forward. 'I think he's interested in me.'
"Well, even if you don't want to answer, can you at least give me a name?"
The almost unreal man parted his lips slowly and murmured,
"Allen…" He smiled faintly. "It's Allen Vanderbilt."
The young lady's knees weakened as her world tilted. "You're…" her breath hitched. "Allen… Vanderbilt?"
---
The moment I stepped out of my apartment, I began running through different scenarios in my head.
What approach should I take to humiliate my nosy neighbor?
There were a lot of options in my book, which I would obviously keep to myself.
After much contemplation, I picked one:
Just act natural.
When an aura is forced, it stops being cool.
That meant I had to be myself.
I had to be Allen Park, or rather Allen Vanderbilt.
Taking measured steps down the stairs, silently hoping my neighbor would appear, my gaze landed on a certain woman, and for a fleeting second, I almost grinned.
Still, I kept my expression composed and continued down the stairs.
The moment her eyes locked on me, she froze.
The kind of freeze that screamed, "Is this even real?"
The kind of freeze that made me feel as though I had been reborn a second time.
As soon as I reached the last step, she began spouting nonsense, and I just stared, waiting for the right moment to shut her up.
How should I do it?
Place a finger over my lips?
No. Too cringeworthy.
What about simply saying "Stop"?
Too plain.
Two scenarios instantly flashed through my mind, both too badass to ignore.
So I chose them both.
"I didn't know… handsome…"
My mind filtered out the words I needed, and once I caught "handsome," I asked the question I'd prepared, always one that carried an aura.
With a slight tilt of my head, I asked:
"What the hell are you even saying?"
Her face flushed an even deeper shade of red at the gesture as she stepped closer.
Her words passed in one ear and out the other, but the moment I heard "If you aren't" and "dating"…
Hahahahahaha.
'Got you, bitch.'
I maintained my poker face. "Why would I?"
The trap was set, and it didn't take long for her to bite.
"Well, even if you don't want to answer, can you at least give me a name?"
I stared at her, opening my mouth just slowly enough to draw out the suspense:
"Allen." I let a small smile slip. "Allen Vanderbilt."
The woman's face drained of color, and without another word, I slid on my headphones and walked past her.
"You're lying!" she shouted as I passed. "Allen is a pig!" She glared at me. "And you're hot. Pig and hot don't coexist."
I turned my head slightly and replied, "Definitely."
The reason was simple.
It could mean yes, I'm not Allen.
It could also mean I can't coexist with Allen.
Worst of all, it could mean I just called her a pig.
'The ecstasy of life.'
Since I wasn't facing her anymore, I allowed myself a wicked grin.
Even so, everyone on the street turned toward me, faces flushed.
It was perfect.
Truly perfect.
…
With my current face, it didn't even take ten minutes before I found the café, or rather restaurant, Quincy had mentioned.
A small place that served both ramen and meat.
It reminded me of the time I went with the crew to South Korea for a heist.
I was from South Korea, but I knew little about it since I grew up in the States.
Even now, though my body was that of an Asian, I didn't feel particularly connected to the culture.
I exhaled softly as I pushed open the restaurant door.
The moment I did, all eyes turned to me, and people froze mid-bite.
Even the waitress who was about to greet me stopped, her jaw slack.
I smiled lightly and asked, "I'm looking for Quincy Blake."