Gyuri dismisses Chunji, irritated that for his lack of manners, he can't even point her to the person who'd asked him to deliver the message. She says goodbye to the French man; she knows she has already lost his interest and if she hasn't, then she has lost interest in him.

She strides a couple of paces away elegantly, putting some distance between her and the other patrons, though she knows her silent entourage is not far away, stalking her every move like a mass of invisible shadows. They are everywhere and nowhere at all, yet Gyuri knows they're there.

Her entourage had not intercepted Chunji, and that can mean one of two things- one, they did not think of Chunji as a threat, or two, they're indicating that she should read whatever his message is. Or they did not see him, Gyuri thinks. Their standards are slipping. They cannot fail to keep one boy away simply because there are too many people here tonight. I'll have to fire whoever's responsible tonight.

But for now, Gyuri decides it can wait. Intrigue has already crept its way into her and she finds herself unravelling the note, despite her usual policy of ignoring trivial messages delivered to her.

Her grip on the note loosens in disappointment when she sees that there's only one word on it.

Chunji.

And below that, there's a phone number.

***

Max watches Gyuri open the note. An involuntary smile of relief curves his lips slightly. He hadn't been sure she would read it and was convinced she would throw it away as soon as Chunji left. But to his amazement, she does open it, and after that, stuffs it into her purse. He can tell she's frustrated. Who wouldn't be, if you opened a note in anticipation, only to find that it's practically blank?

A low chuckle, though he doesn't know whether it's due to amusement or relief, escapes his lips. He doesn't bother taking one last look at the opulent casino as he turns on his heel. Tonight, he came for Gyuri and now that his purpose is fulfilled, he can start. The game starts now, Park Gyuri.

Max begins loosening his tie in the elevator, nodding politely to the people he passes and pretending that, for the moment, he is just like them. That he's in Paris for a holiday, not to steal a diamond. That he owns his own life and isn't controlled by a thieving agency. It's what keeps him sane, these little moments, and if it weren't for these little mental comforts, Max would have died of insanity a long time ago.

He slings his tuxedo off and fishes out the card for his room from the interior pocket. A second later, the lock flashes green and he's inside, kicking his shoes off. Through the slit in the curtains, he can see the full Parisian moon, whiter and larger than any pearl and yet still bearing resemblance to one, like the centre of the oyster that is the world.

Max allows himself to admire it for a breath of time, before reaching behind him to switch the lights on. He turns back, about to head to the curtains to yank them closed−

"!" he exclaims, jumping. He clutches his chest, his eyes blinking rapidly, as if to make sure what he's seeing before him is really there.

In front of him, sitting in a drawing room chair beside the curtains, is Fei. Fei.

"Frightened, are we, Max?" Fei says, amused. Max gapes at her. It is the first time he has ever seen her outside of CS and it's the first time she's ever  said something to him that doesn't involve, He is ready to see you, or, this way, or, you're late.

The second thing his eyes pick up on is that she's not wearing her usual clothes. The black dress she's wearing exposes her bare shoulder and cinches at the waist, fanning out around her like a sea of black satin. A black trench coat is draped over the back of the chair, which he assumes is hers.

He hasn't seen her like this before. No ruffles, no belts and no tight pencil skirts.

"Fei," Max breathes, his voice a mere whisper against the drumming of his heart, blood pumping loud in his ears. "What are you doing here?"

"You can't guess?"

He can guess. But his mind doesn't want to accept it, doesn't want to entertain the very thought that Fei is actually here for the reason that he thinks. Because if she is, then this is bad, so very bad.

"Does T.O.P know you're here?" he asks. If he can avoid the topic, then he will do so, for as long as he can get away with it.

She shrugs her thin shoulders. "I have been a faithful secretary for 12 years," she says. "T.O.P trusts me enough not to ask where I go on my weekends."

"You've also never pried into my business for 12 years," Max says. He can't avoid it any longer and his hands ball into tight fists. "You have never spoken to me, never acknowledged me as a person in 12 years, and yet, you think that one phone call will make me drop everything, everything I have worked for just because you deem it urgent, and you don't even tell me why. I don't know what the hell you want, but you've wasted your time coming here,