Camille: Bleach

About an hour later I was sitting in my dressing room, with tin foil stuck in my hair and half a chocolate bar in my mouth.

The hair bleaching was a strategic move. I had to change the way I looked, from both my raven-haired and my dirty blonde wig appearances.

Maybe it was also a bit of an impulse. The news that I was a clone had fed a desire in me to change, to be as different as I could from the 'real' me. 

Luna. What kind of dumb name was that anyways? I didn't look like a Luna.

I took another bite from the sugary heaven on the dresser, chewing quite efficiently considering that I was practically crying my eyes out. Yes, I used to be a health nut, and no I did not care whether or not the junk was good for my figure.

The radio was on full blast and I'd locked the door to keep Eli from barging in. I didn't care about whatever stupid news it was he wanted to bombard me with. 

At least he didn't have to face being a lab-born clone.

And at least he hadn't heard the news from his long-lost brother.

I missed Nixie. This was exactly the kind of moment I needed to talk to her, but she'd probably only brush me off for whatever reason she'd been avoiding me.

I'd have liked to talked to Myah too, or Lisette or even Stinger. It felt so much better to be part of a group, rather than alone.

Even Eli, if he wasn't too busy being smitten by some mystery girl. 


Some generic pop started on the radio and I clicked it off, moving to spit out the sugary mush in the bin. 

I was already sick of it. Never was the greatest comfort food.

I heard a knock at the door and wiped my face hastily, straightening up and wrapping a towel over my head so that I looked less crazy.

When I opened the door I had the shock of a lifetime.

"Boltake?! What?"

He gestured for me to let him in, which I did, and locked the door. 

"I hope you don't mind my impromptu visit or my clothing, Miss St. Croix, but I knew that a follow-up was in order."

Gabriel was no longer in an immaculate suit but jeans and a black t-shirt, looking no less crisp than usual. 

"What do you want?" I sighed, sitting back down. 

He walked around the small, cluttered room with his hands clasped behind his back, surveying the walls in curiosity. 

"The news of your true origin has likely been a bit of a shock-"

"-A bit?" I cried, "A bit?!"

Gabriel picked up the knife I had been carrying around and toyed with it without turning to look at me.

"Wiseacre created you as part of a project, a project to perfect the process of human cloning. Your case went extremely well, but not a single of his subjects since has lived, or been able to age as rapidly as you have. He's kept you from leaving because he wants to find out what it is that allowed for that. If he discovers exactly what it is, he could create and sell armies."

"Then why give me fake memories, and get me to work in the circus? Couldn't he have just kept me in the lab where I was born full-time?"

"Let's just say he has a bit of a personal vendetta against me. He knew I would come back to the circus to find Luna, and created you as a personal blow. You were a living ghost...Wiseacre has a sick sense of humour."

"You cared about Luna, didn't you?" I half-asked, half-stated.

Boltake paused momentarily, and continued.

"Yes. But I never had the chance to tell her. She merely thought of me as a coward."

I was silent for a moment before asking one of my many questions.

"But...if I was given Luna's memories, why don't I remember a thing about you before the Fabulous Fox?"

He threw the knife over his shoulder and it whizzed through the air, sticking to the wall just above my head.

"Another of Wiseacre's tactics to keep me from touching the circus, or trying to contact you. It worked too, for a few years."

"And then you put a chip in my brain, right?"

Boltake finally turned, looking at me with his penetrating eyes.

"I'm sorry about that, but I had to ensure your loyalties were in place."

"How'd you get so rich?"


"You're good at the knife throwing, I get it, but how did you go from a circus performer to billionaire in a few years?"

He smiled a little, folding his arms.

"That, Miss St. Croix, is for me to know and you to find out."


I was going to say something else but he cut me off.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, my time window is rapidly closing. Good afternoon, and take care of yourself, Miss St. Croix."

He strode to the door and disappeared somewhere, likely into thin air. When I went to shut the door, a few seconds after he stepped out, I could find no sign of him. 

Didn't matter. I had to shower anyways. 

The End

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