I whip two things out of my giant shoulder bag. An umbrella with a collapsible handle, and my phone. I text Lyla.


Give me the number that called you. I would like to speak to this 'Red Twilight.' And next time, please refrain from running off in a panic. You do realize I can hijack any electronic right? ;) Don't worry, the secret is safe with me. I won't tell if you don't.

:while in the car she calls Raf.Raf doesn't pick up. Lyla slams the phone down on the dashboard. Then she stops the car at a random place and starts crying even more.:
:phone rings and she doesn't answer. The voice message says:
'Hey, this is Raf. I got your missed call. Why didn't you leave a message? I was busy, sorry I couldn't come fast enough. Call me back when you get this.'
:Lyla puts her hand on her face and sinks into the seat. She puts her knees up near her hands. She turns the car off just when it starts raining. She whispers to herself:
"Could this get literally any worse?"
:just then her phone rings again. She picks up. It's the Red Twilight leader.:
"Hey. I'll come tomorrow. I'm having a...*ahem* problem. I think that I'm being stalked. I have to be careful, right?"
"Right. Come as soon as you feel it is safe."
"Ok."
:hangs up then continues her crying. She crys herself to sleep. When she wakes up it is midnight. She is scared to do anything. It's pitch black and she's afraid to turn the car on, so she just try's to fall asleep. It works.

"That was very.. su- sye- sudden." She said, as her English was clearly not very good. "Can you please not tell people about Aoi-chan?" She asked. Surely knowing the identity of the feline pop star would be very... wierd

:texts back:
Wait, you heard me? Did anyone else? Here is the number. :texts number:
And sorry about runnning away. If anyone else heard me, I might have to leave the country.

I won't tell anyone, I promise.

"Oh, I won't!"

I reply once more.


Well, duh, I'm a hacking robot. If you tell anyone I will zap you. Jk, I'm pretty sure I can't do that.


"Sorry."

I unfold my umbrella, which is just a plain black one. On the bottom of the handle, there is a button. Whenever I press it, it pushes up a bar that pushes small planes out of the edges of the umbrella. For dire situations. I prop the umbrella on the wall and strum a few notes on the guitar. It doesn't sound quite right, so I hit the string a few more tries, finally tuning it. "Don't mind me." I play a little tune, watching the clouds fill up the sky, swallowing the afternoon light.

"Thank you." She nodded, trying not to shift back into her language.

(I picture her getting really angry at someone and just trash talking them in Japanese)

"You're good! How long have you been playing?" Atala inquired. She enjoyed speaking to fellow guitarists.

I look up at her solemnly, and reply. "Since the day I was born," I tell Atala without a hint of being joking.