"Do you have a best friend?"
I laughed nervously, scratching the back of my neck. "I… don't even have a friend."
"Perfect!" Jasmine clapped her hands together, beaming like she'd just won the lottery. "Then it's settled—I'm your best friend from now on. Deal?"
She stuck out a manicured hand, confident and sure of herself, as if this was how friendships were supposed to begin—no preamble, just pure, chaotic certainty.
I blinked at her, stunned. Was this really happening? This girl didn't even know me. But… why not?
I hesitated, then slowly placed my hand in hers. "Deal."
Jasmine squealed and did a dramatic little twirl, her hair flying around her shoulders. "Yes! My wish came true! I told my brother I was going to find my soulmate today, and here you are!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Your… soulmate?"
"Best friend soulmate," she clarified with a dismissive wave. "My brother said I couldn't just 'find' a friend, but look! I told him there were girls out there just like me—unique, misunderstood, alone but not lonely. And now I've found you!"
I chuckled softly, despite myself. Jasmine's energy was so theatrical it was almost overwhelming, but there was something endearing about it.
For a moment, it felt easy—normal, even. Like I wasn't just some girl running from shadows. But then, I saw them.
A group of men in black suits lingered at the edge of the crowd, their eyes fixed on us. Silent. Unmoving.
My stomach clenched.
Their clothes were sleek, their faces unreadable, and they blended just enough to go unnoticed by the bustling mall-goers—but not by me. No, my instincts screamed danger.
I leaned closer to Jasmine, keeping my voice low. "Jasmine… can you run in heels?"
Her eyes went wide. "I've always wanted to try, but my brother says it's undignified."
"Well, you're about to." I grabbed her arm.
"What? Why?" Jasmine asked, her voice rising.
"Run."
The air snapped tight as we bolted.
We tore through the crowd, weaving between startled shoppers. My grip on Jasmine's wrist was firm, her palm growing slick with sweat. The bright lights of the mall blurred in my vision, and every footstep behind us sent a jolt of fear down my spine.
"Why are we running?" Jasmine gasped, stumbling in her heels but somehow managing to keep up. "Hermia, what the hell is happening?"
"Just trust me!" I didn't dare look back—I could feel them, those men in black, closing the distance.
The noise of the mall—the laughter, the music, the chatter—faded into a chaotic buzz in my ears. I only heard the pounding of my heart.
Then, I spotted it—a small decoration store tucked into the corner. Without thinking, I yanked Jasmine inside.
We crouched behind the door, breathless.
"What is going on?" Jasmine hissed, her cheeks flushed.
"Keep your voice down," I whispered back. My heart slammed against my ribs, my body thrumming with adrenaline. "There were men—men in black suits. They were watching us."
Jasmine blinked at me, her confusion melting into something that looked suspiciously like… amusement?
"Wait," she said slowly. "Are you talking about my security detail?"
I froze. "Your… security detail?"
She sighed dramatically, like this was the most exhausting revelation of her life. "Yes. They're assigned by my brother and dad to follow me everywhere. They're not dangerous—they're just overprotective."
I stared at her. "Oh my god," I muttered, burying my face in my hands. "I thought— I thought they were after us."
"No!" Jasmine burst out laughing, and the sound echoed through the store. "This is amazing! I've never actually run away from them before. You've just made my day!"
Before I could recover from the embarrassment threatening to swallow me whole, Jasmine pulled out her phone, powered it off, and flashed me a mischievous grin.
"What are you doing?" I asked, still trying to catch my breath.
"Turning off my phone," she said nonchalantly.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" My voice cracked. "What if something happens?"
She waved off my concern. "Relax. It's fine. They'll find me eventually."
Looping her arm through mine like we were lifelong friends, she declared, "Now, let's go shopping!"
I blinked. "What?"
"What are you even here for?" Jasmine asked, leading me out of the store like the last two minutes hadn't just happened.
I swallowed hard, still disoriented by her whirlwind personality. "I… need a dress. For a function tonight."
Jasmine lit up. "Perfect! I know just the place!"
Before I could protest, she dragged me through the mall with absolute confidence.
We stopped in front of a boutique so luxurious that I instinctively clutched my bag tighter. The polished floors gleamed under massive chandeliers, and the name above the entrance practically screamed exclusivity.
"Here we are!" Jasmine chirped, pushing the door open.
I didn't move. My feet felt glued to the floor.
I could feel the weight of my modest purse, the thinness of my wallet. The sharp contrast between this world and mine.
Jasmine didn't seem to notice—or maybe she did, but didn't care.
Before I could figure out how to tell her I couldn't afford anything in this place, the moment shattered.
Three men in black suits strode into the boutique, their dark gazes locking onto Jasmine.
"There's a call for you, Miss Jasmine," one of them said, voice as stiff as his posture.
Jasmine groaned. "How did you find me?"
The man didn't blink. "Mr. Elvis is calling."
"I'm not taking that!" Jasmine huffed, glaring at the phone in his hand. "I know you told on me."
She turned to me with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm so sorry, Hermia. I have to go. Enjoy shopping, okay?"
My stomach dropped. She's leaving me?!