The car stopped in front of an august structure with big bold red letters embossed on top of it. Scarlet Couture by Spencers it read. It is a highly known clothing line for the elite society owned by the Spencers.

The glass doors automatically slid open and the three of them stepped inside. A woman in her twenty's appeared.

"Hi Stella. We're here for a visit," Dylan said. "We're welcome, right?"

"Absolutely, sir." The woman replied. "What brings you here?" She glanced at the girl who still had her brown eyes wide with confusion.

Tyler pushed Louise forward with his right hand. "We need your help on something."

Stella could only shake her head. The two delinquents had found yet another victim to toy around. "You're not being troubled by these two, are you?" She asked the lass.

Louise shook her head and smiled. "No, Ma'am." How she wished she could've just bit her tongue.

"Oh, Chris had an appointment today that's why he isn't with us. He left just a while ago." Tyler informed Stella.

"I see. Please come this way."

"Let's go." The twins dragged her before she could even say something and the three of them kept up behind Stella. Louise looked around and noticed that every person they passed by respectively bowed and greeted them. She smiled back awkwardly.

"What are we doing here?" The lass whispered helplessly.

Tyler shrugged; his hands casually in his pockets. "To have fun." Louise opened her mouth to protest but changed her mind. Instead she asked, "Young master? The woman said young master. Does she mean Chris?"

"Uh-huh. Chris's family owns this building and also the biggest and most famous Clothing Lines in the country. His mother is a well-known fashion designer and Stella works for her."

"Actually, we do too," Dylan said. "We work for them as magazine cover models. Only part-time though, since school," he made quotations with his fingers, "comes first."

Louise shouldn't be too surprised. With their superb looks and charms, they're perfect for the part. No wonder they always wear the finest of clothes.

Another set of doors slid automatically and Louise's brown eyes widened with amazement. "Wow," Louise said under her breath. Every corner of the room had rows of racks filled with all kinds of clothes: elegant, lovely, colourful, luxurious, gorgeous, splendid—you name it. It was simply a place only a high-class person would go to—definitely not her.

"I don't think you brought me to the right place," she stated feeling uneasy. She nudged the twins but they completely ignored her.

Stella opened a wardrobe filled with plush dresses of different colors hung and arranged neatly. On the side were racks of shoes; elegant and all. "This is where we keep the new designs."

"Alright. Let's see them," Dylan prodded.

"Um, haha... I don't... really think this is necessary," Louise insisted, forcing a laugh. She had to make any excuse possible because she's not really into these things. Besides, luxurious clothes just wouldn't suit my plain and common features, she thought. She stepped backward but Dylan had his hand firmly around her arm with a mischievous grin. Tyler grabbed an armful of clothes from the wardrobe and handed it to Stella. "Try these on her."

"Yes, sir." Stella snapped her fingers and instantly a line of women appeared to assist them.

"No, wait! Stop—"

Too late. Tweedledee and Tweedledum had already shoved her behind the huge curtains of the fitting room.



Chris held up a cold can of soda toward a black-haired lad who had his back against a tree; his usual blank and expressionless eyes were fixed ahead, apparently at nothing. Chris knew he would find his friend here of all places. It was just the kind of place quiet enough and free of any disturbances.

"Yeah, sure."

Eric Claude took the can and stared at it before popping it open. He took a few gulps then turned his head back to where his gaze was before. "How'd the meeting go?"

"There were no more reported attacks since the incident at the Orphanage." Chris started as he took his place under a nearby tree. It was afternoon. Outside, the wind was cool and breezy. The mansion was quiet and Chris had figured out the two hoodlums had probably taken Louise somewhere. Sure, the twins may be evil at times but he trusts them enough to be responsible.

"Saverin's clan is still suspected to be on the loose but they can't do much harm to her especially since Saverin himself is dead. The peril is minimal right now but we still have to be aware. They were thinking of entering the keeper into our school so we could keep a close eye on her."

"Good for her," Eric muttered, uninterested; he didn't even bothered to look at Chris. There was a hint of disdain visible from his voice.

"Aw, man. You don't have to hate her. She's pretty cute, you know."

A sudden burst of flame appeared in front of Chris and made him jump back, startled. He glanced at Eric and forced a chuckle. "Okay, okay. You can put it out now," he called out nervously. "No need to be harsh on me."

The flame subsided, leaving only ashes which instantly disappeared with the wind.

"How's your left arm, anyway?"

"Danielle said it's fine now. No worries."

"That's good news. Though you might consider being more careful from now on," Chris reminded him. He gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder. "Come on. Paris is waiting for us at the Orphanage. The committee wants us to erase the memories of the victims of the attack."

"Count me out."

Chris threw his hands up and heaved a defeated sigh. "Fine," he muttered. Eric had given him the look that plainly said end of discussion and the world knows there's no heck of a way Chris could change his friend's mind. He knew him too well. They've been good friends for a pretty long time. One day, there they were, minding their own little businesses—then suddenly BAM. They're friends. He doesn't even understand how or when or why. They have different tastes in everything and they get along like fire and ice. But it happened just like that.

Chris finished the last drops of his soda before turning to leave. "Just don't forget to come home tonight. Someone wants to see you," he called out.


"Nah, too big."

"Not that one either. It's too short."

"Too flashy."

"Too formal."

"Nope. Too long."

Complaints rambled on and on; one after the other. Tyler and Dylan sat there drinking lemonade while waiting for Louise to find something suited for her. It's been almost two hours and the clothes she had fitted had already piled up. Louise sighed as the maids helped her put on a peach halter bow dress.