Cameras flashed, autograph hungry fans screamed behind barricades. Private security patrolled every entrance. The Ambrosia Gala wasn’t anything like what Owen saw on screen. He was beyond star struck. Every actor from the city’s biggest films and screen shows strutted across a golden carpet in the most flamboyant outfits imaginable.

  “Get your head in the game,” Vicky whispered to Owen. That dragged him out of his star studded stupor and he flinched. A statue of a naked man with a sword holding up a woman’s severed head gazed down at Owen. Vicky shook her head at him. They were on a walkway inside the Ambrosia Gallery overlooking the opening ceremony. They dressed as janitorial staff to get in the backdoor and they had free reign over the facilities before guests arrived. No one looked at janitors.

  Owen hadn’t seen much art in his life beyond the scratchpad screen. He spent most of the morning with a broom and dust pan as he moved through humanity’s art history. The Ambrosia Gallery housed art rescued from the rest of the world after the collapse. Statues carved from marble lined long halls. Paintings covered every inch of wall space, plaques with unfamiliar names were just beneath them. Da Vinci beneath the portrait of a woman behind thick glass. Van Gogh under an abstract painting of the night sky. A statue of a large naked man carved by David Michelangelo whose towering size reminded Owen of Sensei Dan. The names of these long dead men held no meaning to Owen.

  “I think I saw Aimee Reynolds,” Owen said with a stupid grin on his face. He saw a pair of City News Network vans but he hadn’t gotten a look at his favorite reporter. "Think I'll get to meet her?" The possibility of meeting his crush had Owen practically giddy.

  “Don’t cream your pants.” Vicky handed Owen an ear piece that slipped into his ear canal and wouldn’t be noticed unless someone took a look inside. “Check out the red dress.” Vicky pointed at a woman wearing an ornate dress that resembled a blooming rose and sparkled like the sky on a clear night. “How much do you think it weighs?”

  “Will you two shut up?” Tuck said over the radio. “Fucking hell! You jabber like school girls. Get to the main hall and get your trays. Guests are filing in.”

  “You see the Callahans?” Vicky asked. She led Owen to a supply closet where they changed into their wait staff uniforms.

  “Yeah. Jake and his crew just rolled up. He’s wearing a bright green suit with matching shorts and a pair of pink Conolin sunglasses. You wouldn’t miss him if you were blind. He’s got about fifteen citizens in his entourage.” They slipped out of the closet and made their way toward the kitchen.

  “What about the others?” Owen asked as he touched his ear and Vicky slapped his hand down. “Oh, right.” Owen shook his head. “What about the others?”

  “Lucas is in a black suit. Looks like he’s at a funeral. He doesn’t stand out aside from his goatee. Amber’s in a red dress and black heels.” Owen imagined Tuck lying prone on a roof somewhere with a pair of binoculars in one hand and a radio in the other. “They’re still posing for pictures out front. You have some time before they get inside. Play your part, install the jumper.”

  “It’ll be quick and simple,” Vicky said to Owen. “We just steal from the rulers of City Seven.” She took a deep breath. “No pressure at all.” She held an employee’s only door open for Owen and they merged with a sea of waiters in black vests and white gloves. They didn’t have masks like at the coliseum. Owen’s face was visible to anyone that cared to look. He felt like they knew he was an imposter infiltrating their ranks. He took a deep breath.

  “Don’t panic,” Sensei Dan said. He walked with Owen, his body merged with an unaware waiter. “Confidence is a key part of the Hardknuckle doctrine. Remember your training and everything will fall into place.” He put a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Hey, I heard that champion is going to be here. Let’s get a good look at him in the flesh. I’m curious about what City Seven’s top fighter looks like. Maybe he’ll give you a match in some secluded hall.”

  “I’m not fighting Jake Callahan,” Owen whispered. Jake had a lifetime of training. Owen was a little kid compared to the champ.

  “What was that?” Tuck asked. “You okay?”

  “Yep,” Owen said.

  “Good. Stay quiet.”

  Owen made his way to the kitchen where he was issued a silver tray covered in fruity drinks. And then he made his rounds. Moving through the hall was like fighting. He couldn’t stop moving or someone would hit him. Naomi’s training paid off. Owen weaved through the mingling guests like a gnat on the wind. He was invisible, beneath them in every way. Drinks left his tray and empty glasses took their place. When his tray was empty he returned to the kitchen for another tray and did it again. And again. And Again. For nearly two hours Owen worked as a waiter without word from Tuck or Vicky.

  “Reminds me of the good old days,” Sensei Dan said. He walked the hall freely while Owen dodged elbows and backs. “I’ve been to plenty of events like this when my movies came out I had legions of adoring fans swarm my dojo to learn Hardknuckle style from the man himself.” Dan pointed at himself with both thumbs. “That’d be me. I guess it’s true what they say. The more things change the more they stay the same.”

  “That’s them,” Owen said as he got his first in person look at the Rulers of City Seven. Duke and Lauren Callahan stood together, dressed in a matching burgundy suit and dress. Duke was bald, his blonde goatee groomed neatly. He filled out his suit with well maintained muscles from his days as Fighting League champion. He smiled wide as he shook a man’s hand and patted him on the shoulder. Owen couldn’t believe his eyes. The City Seven King and Queen were so close he could touch them.

  Lauren Callahan took a pair of glasses from Owen’s tray and looked him in the eyes. “Thank you very much,” she said sweetly and Owen’s heart almost stopped. She’d been named City Seven’s most beautiful woman repeatedly, a title taken from her by her own daughter in recent years. Despite her age she still maintained the looks that earned her a place on every screen in the city once upon a time.

  “Waiter!” a man in a pink suit shouted just before he grabbed Owen by the shoulders. He almost dropped his tray, but managed to bring it under control even as the man pushed him. “We need you in here, stat. This way, drink boy.” He led Owen to a private room close to the main hall where a group of people laughed at the antics of a young man in a green suit lined with credit symbols.

  “Jake Callahan,” Owen uttered. He swallowed as the Fighting League champion, and the youngest son of the Callahan family noticed him.

  “Drinks!” Jake shouted when he saw Owen’s tray. “Give it up for the hero!” He snatched a drink from the tray and downed it in a second. “I hate trying to fight my way through the crowd.” He looked Owen up and down, and then threw a punch, stopping short of Owen’s face. “Holy shit, bro! You didn’t even flinch. You’re a real professional. I like that shit. Get drinks everybody!” Jake’s entourage swarmed Owen as Jake plopped on a large white couch.

  “This is the champion of City Seven?” Dan scoffed as he studied Jake. “He’s got good muscles, good height. I don’t care for the tattoos, but that’s neither here nor there. Maybe it’s the attitude. I’m glad you got the CTD and not this guy.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Jake,” a young woman in a tight black dress slid in beside Jake. “I heard you’re sponsored by Yamada Motors. Can I see?”

  “Sure thing.” He unbuttoned his suit jacket and the shirt beneath to reveal his tattoo covered torso. Every inch of him was covered in logos. He pointed at one that resembled a smiling wheel wearing a red cap. “Got it last week with one for Belly Joy. Raking in the credits. Everyone wants a piece of the champ.”

  Owen saw the corner of Jake’s scratchpad poking out of his jacket pocket. If he could get close enough he was confident he could snatch it before Jake noticed. He inched his way to Jake, planning his move when his earpiece buzzed.

  “Got one,” Vicky said. Relief surged through Owen. “Meet me by the closet.”

  Owen slipped out of the private room. He ditched the serving tray in the kitchen and made a beeline for the closet where Vicky left the scratchpad in a previously picked spot with Owen’s tools. The scratchpad was bright pink and had a faded Star Quest sticker on the back. The work was quick and simple. Just like last time Owen carefully pulled the device apart and installed the jumper. A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he finished the job. Simpler times were in the past.

  “Shit,” Vicky said over the radio. Glass shattered. Owen couldn’t hear what was being shouted but it wasn’t good. A minute later Vicky spoke again. “I just got kicked out. Dropped a whole tray of seltzer on some tech mogul.”

  “We adapt,” Tuck said. “Owen, bring the phone back to its owner.”

  “Me? Who?”

  “Amber Callahan,” Vicky said. “She left it on a table. Tell her you found it. I saw her heading out to the balcony. Be careful.”

  “I got this,” Owen said. He didn’t mean to say it out loud and he was sure Tuck and Vicky heard him. “Heading that way now.”

  He didn’t bother to retrieve a tray. He had his goal and couldn’t focus on anything else. Amber Callahan. Amber Callahan. He was going to meet Amber Callahan. Owen took a breath to calm himself. He went for the open balcony, but a pair of men in black suits blocked his way.

  “I need to talk with Ms. Callahan,” Owen said. “I have her scratchpad.” One of the security guards held out his hand. That worked well enough. Owen didn’t need to return it to Amber directly. It just needed to get into her hands.

  As Owen went to hand the pad over, the guard touched his earpiece and looked over his shoulder. He waved Owen through without taking the pad. Owen stepped onto the balcony where a dozen high lifers enjoyed the view. Amber stood with her back to him. Her red dress shimmered in the afternoon sunlight and hugged her curves in all the right ways.

  “It’s funny,” Amber said as Owen approached her. “You can go your whole life without ever knowing someone exists. Then you meet them and you can’t stop running into them. Is that fate or coincidence?”

  “I’m sorry?” Owen uttered.

  “You’re less confident when you’re working.” She turned and Owen recognized her immediately. She wasn’t just Amber Callahan, lead actress of Star Quest and several other large budget films. She offered him a sponsorship to fight for her. He didn’t recognize her at the fight club but there was no mistaking the princess of City Seven now. He couldn’t speak. She made her mother look like a plain woman. “I didn’t take you for a waiter. You should have a more physical job.”

  “Those trays are heavy.” Owen forced an awkward smile. “I found your scratchpad.”

  “I’m always losing it.” Beep. “Has it been doing that long?” Beep. “It’s just my agent.” Beep.

  “Maybe I keep forgetting it because subconsciously I wish it’d go away.” Beep. “Oh well.”

  Amber turned and threw the scratchpad like a slaughter ball. It flew far, spinning and twisting as it careened into the street like a meteor.

  “You just threw your scratchpad!” Owen shouted. She threw her brand new, highly expensive scratchpad like it was a piece of garbage. Owen could pay rent and eat for months on the cost of that scratchpad alone.

  “What?” Tuck said. “She did what? She fucking threw it? Why would she throw it? Fucking high lifers!”

  “I’ll buy another one.” She leaned on the marble rail and stared across the city. “Have you been here at night? It’s beautiful. Everything is lit up as far as you can see and Callahan tower outshines it all. Did you think about my offer?” Amber took off her high heels and let them clatter on the ground. “Did you think my offer over?”

  “I didn’t,” Owen said honestly.

  “Really? That’s weird.” She climbed on the balcony and stood. The security guards tried to rush her but she pirouetted and they froze. “I want everyone that works for my father to go back inside,” Amber said with authority. The guards relented, retreating to the party where they kept an eye on Amber from inside. “That’s better. I hate having those thugs watching me. Daddy thinks something terrible might happen to me if they aren’t around.” She walked on the rail, the hem of her dress blowing slightly. “Do you think I’d survive the drop?”

  “Not at all.” Owen wondered if he could grab her before she could react. He had to clear six feet and get her hand at least. “You should come down.”

  “You should do this, Amber. You should do that. Everyone is always telling me what I should do. Smile for the camera or wind up dead.” She flashed Owen a fake smile and rolled her eyes. “It’s a saying. They want me to do another season of Star Quest. Can you believe it?”

  “I like Star Quest.”

  “Everyone does. That’s not the point. I want to do something real. Something for me. I grew up watching replays of fights but my mom didn’t think it was good for my image to be so obsessed. Let me sponsor you in the Fighting League.”

  “We can discuss it on solid ground.”

  “I’d like to discuss it here.” Amber twirled in place, nearly standing on her tiptoes. Owen’s butthole puckered. If she fell he was going straight to Black Hill and he wouldn’t see the light of day again. That was if Duke Callahan didn’t throw him over the balcony himself. “You have everything to gain and nothing to lose. Why is it even a decision?”

  “What is she talking about?” Tuck asked. “Why would she sponsor you in the Fighting League?”

  “I just started learning a couple months ago,” Owen answered them both. “It’s not a good idea.”

  “You’re already good. Think about how much better you’ll be in two more months,” Amber said. She raised both arms above her head and struck an odd pose. “You should do it.”

  “Agree, Owen,” Tuck said. “Agree. We need another chance to rig her pad and we won’t get a better opportunity.”

  “Okay,” Owen said. He took a deep breath. “I’ll do it. Please come down.”

  “Wonderful,” Amber said. She hopped off the balcony and signaled one of the guards over. She took a pen from his lapel and grabbed Owen’s hand. “This is my contact info. If you send it to anyone you won’t enjoy the reprisal.” She wrote in bubbly script. “You’ll send me yours as soon as you can. I didn’t get your name.”

  “Owen Lamb,” he said. He didn’t live in reality anymore. For a moment, he considered the possibility that the CTD fried his brain so badly that he lived in a constant delusional state where he practiced karate and got Amber Callahan’s private info.

  “Nice to meet you, Owen Lamb. I’m Amber Callahan.” She shook his hand and he thought she must have bathed in lotion every night to get such soft skin. “I look forward to working together. She flashed him a sweet smile. “You really do have nice eyes. You can go now.”

  Owen fled under the gaze of half a dozen guards. He glanced at his hand covered in Amber's contact info and his world spun at the thought of how out of control everything was getting. Fighting, prison breaks, spy work. It was too much for his low life heart.

  “Take a breath, Owen,” Sensei Dan said.

  “Where were you the whole time?”

  “I didn’t want to distract you. Deep breaths, in through the nose out through the mouth. Nice and slow, there you go.” Dan patted Owen’s shoulder. “Nice job getting those digits.” “Digits?”

  “Number, e-mail, the way to communication. Look at you, stud!” He playfully shoved Owen. “Told you she was into you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Who are you talking to?” Tuck asked.

  “No one,” Owen said. “Just thinking out loud.”

  “Think less loud." Tuck laughed. "Get out of there and meet Ed at the car. Not everything went to plan, but you did good work. Looks like you’re our new undercover agent, Mr. Lamb.”