"I have an apartment upstairs. But ... it all seems so wrong now. Like it doesn't belong to me. But this is where I live. It's just so confusing."
"You expect us to believe that you live above the club? Listen, lady, if you're going to hurl out a bunch of bullshit, then at least say something that's believable," Grave said.
"Yeah," Simon agreed, crossing his arms in front of his shirt, which was now a black leather tank-top that showed off his bare now-pale arms.
"You look kind of young to have your own apartment," Jay said. He paused. "You didn't happen to wake up wearing someone else's clothes...that seems to be going around."
"Actually, yes," Agatha said.
"Well, let's see this apartment," Jay said, escorting her upstairs.
The apartment upstairs didn't take up the entire floor, but the rest of the space was old storage rooms that weren't being used. The room had a very old aesthetic, as if someone had tried to match the look of a bygone era...except for the laptop sitting on the desk. Jay liked it.
"I'm Jay Duncan...that's Grave, and Simon," Jay said. "What's your name?"
She looked at him, suddenly fresh faced, the makeup having vanished unnoticed. "Oh, sorry, Mr. Duncan...I'm Agatha."
