Esper

Esper Chapter 18: Eye of the storm

Part 1

Amala Singh gleefully strolled away from the Digital idol Megan Byte event, bag full of favors and souvenirs. Though mostly surrounded by mothers and daughters, she took comfort in other fans being around her age, despite the majority being unsavory looking men. Seeing the cast in person, watching a live stage performance, openly cheering, the young woman couldn't remember the last time she was so elated! Light giggling caught Amala's attention, directed at her unintentional humming and skipping, nearly breaking out into a pirouette. She shot an embarrassed glare at the crowd who all backed away from the cross woman.

"Amala?" Recognizing the voice, Amala spotted Marisa, followed by a young girl with similar auburn hair and brown eyes using a cane to support herself. "It is you! Oh, you did mention being a fan of Digi-Idol. Constance, this is someone mommy works with! She also likes Digi-Idol!" A grin bloomed across the young girl's face.

"Really?" Constance asked, brimming with reserved excitement!

"Y-yes! It's my favorite!" Any apprehension and embarrassment from before was washed away by the delight of interacting with another fan! "I love the singing and dancing! Megan's so cool! She's also, like, a detective! I haven't missed a single episode or any of the web exclusives! Uh...!" Though Marisa smiled, seeing her often sullen co-worker gushing with enthusiasm, self-awareness swept Amala with a bright red blush overtaking her face!

"Have you played any of the games? I love the rhythm games they make!"

"Me too!" The sudden and immediate pivot back to fangirling shocked Marisa! "I love dancing, and watching people dance! Do you dance?"

"Oh...umm, not really." Abruptly, Constance grew morose. That nagging numb twinge in her lower back always a vexing reminder, she sheepishly looked at her cane, having difficulty just shuffling from one foot to another.

"That sucks. Dancing is the best! I...used to dance all the time when I was younger! It's so fun twirling about freely!" The sentiment was understood but interpreted differently between Amala and Constance. Where Amala aimed to impart joy, wonderment, and love for dancing, the young girl assumed teasing. "I can teach you how to dance, if you want. Come on..." She extended her hand, but Marisa gently pushed it aside.

"Amala...dear...no." Sternly, the woman spoke.

"Huh? No, no! I'm really a good teacher, here!" Forcefully grabbing Marisa's daughter's hand, she pulled her in close! "Follow me!" She quickly tried to gather her footing, but when the girl's legs moved incorrectly, she became frustrated!

"That's enough!" Marisa yanked her daughter away from Amala! "Are you stupid?! What is wrong with you?! She has scoliosis!" She was fed up with the well-meaning yet odd woman, blinded by her excitement, ignoring the obvious.

"Oh...I..." Realization slowly set in. Once more, her self-absorbed actions had upset someone, much like with Nicolaus Thompson. The young girl was in tears, having some of her accessories from the show broken upon Amala snatching her. Whispers of confusion and looks tinged with contempt from bystanders descended onto Amala's shoulders. "I'm sorry." She remorsefully apologized, shoving her own bag of merchandise into Marisa's arms and sprinted off!

Without making it too far, a loud bang sent the crowd into a frenzy! Amala turned and her eyes locked onto the source, as she almost subconsciously prepped her pyrokinesis as well! Among the swarming crowd, a figure stood, smoking gun in hand; and at their feet lay a person, their beige and black hoodie, stained crimson with blood. As people rushed by Amala, she made eye contact with the figure. Her shaggy blonde hair was splayed across her bald patch laden scalp, and her white skin held no luster. The woman's vacant grey eyes bore holes through Amala, and into her soul. They reminded her of someone, a little girl who'd received no help, only directions, only orders.