Shy, Shy, Shy

"So how are we going to go about this?" We said it in unison, and that escalated the tension of the air. I've been fighting to find the right words to say, and apparently he's been too.

Carmine and I, just went through the most awkward of a car ride I could've guessed, and what felt like an extra hour of silence when we arrived at his place didn't make it any better. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but like people say, time passes when you're having fun, and nothing like that was going on here.

Time forgot how to tick. He lost his smart mouth once he left his mom's place, at least freely. Adding those together, there wasn't much you could get out of it. Zero plus zero is a waste of an equation that has a waste of a solution. Did I want his smart mouth to make a comeback? No idea.

I started out mesmerized by the beauty of the seats and just the fact that he had his own driver to take him from Point A to Point B, and that same feeling came along when we found his hidden house, that was off in the distance from the city. Classier and extra elegant in comparison to the one I entered before his.

Mrs. Jung had insisted that we leave her household before morning came so he can figure out what exactly he's going to do to handle the biggest project of his life, that is me, for the next three months, and quite obviously he hasn't gotten anywhere with that.

Same page. Both lost. Both have nothing to go off of, and of course me being uncomfortable had to state that obvious. "Wow, so neither of us know what's going on." I said. My laugh came out fake, and severely forced I'd cringe or have some sort of second hand embarrassment if I were his ears. I had my legs crossed, following that "lady-like" stereotype, with my hands together on top of them to prevent them from shaking.

Carmine didn't notice any of that. He exhaled deeply before he changed his position on his couch, and tried to get comfortable somehow. This is probably the weirdest he ever felt sitting in his house.

"Sorry about my attitude before. I might be an actor in the spotlight and crap but I'm super shy and get flustered easily. I just go crazy when around my mom. We have that kind of relationship but it's all supposed to be jokes. I didn't mean anything directed at you." His tinted cheeks put blush on his face, and a short-lasting smile lit up his cold side. It washed away the anger that I saw him in before, blanketing him in innocence.

He had that vibe on him that made you want to forgive him for whatever he did, which I gave into. "You're fine. Don't worry about it." I said. I didn't mean it fully. It got something off my chest though so I can be content with that. That didn't mean I forgave him with my entire heart. Just a little piece of it was enough to not make me a liar.

"Thank goodness." He seemed genuinely relieved, but I wasn't quick to believe him. He's an actor, so he shouldn't have too much trouble creating a lie in his emotions. "So I might have the plan I'm supposed to come through with." He bit his lip, his eyes looking upward toward the ceiling as he thought about it. He lowered his voice when he brought his eye contact back down to his feet. "And you're actually here to listen to it. Crap. What a hassle. I can't believe I got myself into this."

"Excuse me?" Yeah, I didn't want his smart mouth back. I've decided.

"Huh? Oh nothing." He brushed off his words like it was useless to bring up twice. Which I guess it was, because I heard every last bit of it the first time little did he know. How hypocritical that that could come along right after an apology. Don't get me wrong, I love the skills he has as an actor but the real person within him is driving me nuts. "I've been practicing my lines all day today for the new series so I'm starting to slur my words. Isn't it hilarious?"

You don't seem to be so shy anymore, Actor Dude. What changed? Push it too far and you'll unlock another side of

me. Dare to try me, prick? — How badly I wanted to say those words, but I didn't. A girl lacking so much to reach the 100s couldn't just blurt stuff out like that. I needed to be on their good sides for the sake of my life. All I did was blink. Besides, there's no words in any language that could provide what needed to be said.

"Anyway," He went on when I didn't respond. "I have an idea I can propose. It's not the best idea but it's all I got. First thing before anything; the one rule is you can't leave the house unless I say so. I can't risk getting in trouble. It could screw my career over. Deal?"

Idiot. Where would I go anyway? I'd stay in here if he tried forcing me out. Looks like we agree in one thing for our own sakes. "Yeah. Deal. Fine."

"Good. Second, you're aware that my goal here is to help you blend in until the world can change its ways. Do you want me to lay the process I've decided on easy on you or can I be a B with an itch about it?"

"You think you can hurt my feelings? My parents are dead and I'm the only one below one hundred rank in a world that cares solely about beauty. Shoot away." I folded my arms at what felt like a threat, a challenge or somewhere in between.

A smirk danced at his lips when he saw that, and he raised his eyebrows as he cocked his head. The position of his arms seemed to mock mine. "Alright then. You asked for it, Georgia."

Can't he call me Arizona at least once, that freaking brat? You know, what my name actually is? That deserves an eye roll. I might hate my name, but he's gonna make me hate it more if he's gonna keep tampering with it.

He cracked his knuckles and stretched out his arms when he stood up. Before I knew it, he was knelt down before me, peering into my face from every angle you could get, and as close as you could get too. I've never been so insecure about the littlest of things; like the way my eyes closed when they blinked and the way my breathing was never fully calmed, and it's things like that and much more that he noticed. I could tell. I didn't have to guess.

"Your eyebrows need plucking. You have pimples on your forehead, cheeks, and chin, and blackheads on your nose. You need to work on tightening your pores. Your hair needs more volume, your lips need more fullness, your eyes are too tame, your nose is flat, and—."

"And?" I intervened before he could finish with exclamation mixed in with my wonder of how far he could go. Turns out, I couldn't handle it, and even if I could, I wouldn't want to. Trying to be all tough and bad turned against me in the end. It always does, when you're pretending to be anyone or anything but yourself, but I couldn't believe that until I felt the darts enter me, their only target. "Ouch. That shyet did kinda hurted."

He put his hands up in defense. "Hey! That's your fault not mine. I gave you the chance to let me be nice about it."

"Whatever." His attitude was making me salty I didn't know how much more of it I could take. I attempted to tweak the topic a little so it didn't focus so much on me, but on him. "So what are you gonna do about it then?"

"Because there's a number of core issues, I might have to scan you to find out where to start. I have to hit the biggest problem to see bigger improvement. Did you ever get your number for the hit-100 ranking? I'm gonna need that." Carmine had his chin rested against his hand. He was thinking more deeply about where to go from here, but nothing he's said felt nice or reassuring. I've felt more like garbage the further this went on, and I was an additional chore he had to worry about.

"No, I didn't. I was hidden from the government since my birth. I never got my numbers."

"That's what I thought. I'll have to do it now then." He held a piece of machinery in his hand that he picked out of his bookshelf. I didn't see it there before. It was a white gun-looking object, but with a muzzle that was about three inches wide. It shined a green laser-light whenever he pulled the trigger.

After a few presses to that button, he faced it at my temple. He was prepared to drag the green light from my forehead to my chin. "That feeling you get when something is too loud out of nowhere and it hurts your ears, that's literally what your skin is going to feel like with this. It won't make sense until you feel it, but it won't last long and it's not that bad okay? Stay still for me."

"Wait." I grabbed his wrist, and shockingly he didn't fight my light grip. I had to confirm my own safety before he'd do something like this. "Where will this information go? The government isn't going to know I exist right? This is just for your own study-purposes or whatever? No?"

"Don't worry. It sends the permanent file to my mom's old laptop. It's mine now and in my basement. That's it. I promise. It's a perk of your mom working for the president. Now let go of me so I can do this." He shoved my hand out of the way, the gun-thing positioned back to the top of my face by a few inches of a gap, and he dragged it down from a far until the green light nudged every part of it. I felt what he was talking about to be an exact explanation, but I tried not to wince to it when he was staring me down. It was over soon enough. It really wasn't all that bad.

The actor studied the machine as the results loaded into screen on its top, but his hand hid my perspective from being able to see it, like students did with folders back in elementary school when it came to exams. I tried to peek my way around but I couldn't get a single glimpse. Epic fail.

He would only look up at me, back down at the result, and back to me again over and over to the point he went crazy. He couldn't hide his expression; he couldn't accept the result to be true. I had to ask even if he wouldn't tell. If he kept that up I might have to kill him until I could find it myself. "What's your problem? What's the result? What'd I get?"

He pushed frantically onto a reset button. I knew that when he felt relief that the answer to my question was gone and it was useless to continue wrestling for what he had in his hands. He threw in a shrug for the heck of it; what he saw was still in bold letters inside his head. "The scan isn't important. You don't have to know if you haven't for so many years. What's important is I know what to target first to start this journey of yours."

"What's the big deal about telling me? I know I'm not a hundred so it's not like it'll be a shocker." I said it quiet enough that he couldn't hear, and unlike him, when I did it, I actually did it properly. He couldn't catch on. In fact, he was so still like he heard nothing at all and was expecting me to react. I covered over the fake quiet; the quiet he thought we had between us. "So you got a plan now? Let me ask you again, how are we going about this? You seem to have gotten yourself together now."

"We're gonna start with your skin condition and focus on skin care." He sighed, burying his face into his hands. He knew this would be difficult, but the amount of risks he had to face was hitting him harder now. I almost felt bad for him. Almost. "But the one problem is a feature of hitting a perfect score on the scan is not being acne prone and having low maintenance skin, so—."

I jumped in to finish his sentence when I found his train of thought. "So it'll look suspicious buying products for specifically clearing up acne, because the government has to know about every single purchase we make and doesn't let us have anything called privacy. Yet for some reason they still stupidly keep stuff like that on the shelves. Is that a trap?" I sat into the chair, confident with what I've come up with to say. He was nodding in agreement with everything I said. My self-esteem softened the atmosphere, on my side of it. I used it to my advantage; to destroy his. "Yeah, your plan seems to have holes. Good try though, Carmine."

"Jeez. Don't be so quick to judge. I got it under control, Hawaii. Let me finish."

I've never seen someone apologize for his attitude and not prove that he was sorry with what came after. Not this bad. Not to this extent. Not even on TV.

Even an actor can't act in front of me. He's irritated to the max. If that's the way it is, then so be it. It sounds like a personal problem to me.

"Okay, Carmine. Go on."