K8 belonged on that podium, spinning around that pole. She was a goddess.

The only weird thing about her is how ostracised and isolated she had seemed to be when I had first seen her, in Agape's office. The rest of the group had not even recognised her presence.

If we had been in high school, I would've identified her as the typically bullied teenager. She seemed willingly distant, as distant as Siegfried had been towards her when she had mentioned her to me: I remembered how he didn't consider her a girl, only a robot Agape had designed.

It shocked me because she was getting everybody's attention that night at the club. The audience was obsessively hungry for her, while our teammates didn't even look at her. It didn't make sense – to me. Something was off.

"K8!" a drunk clone guy shouted at her. "More twerking!"

The crowd cheered her name.

"Of course, handsome!" she shouted back at him in a sensual voice. She winked at him.

Her voice was a bit artificial and resonated in a metallic way, but no one seemed to care. Everybody seemed to be delighted.

She seemed to like having all that lavish attention bestowed upon her. Her smile was magnetic. I started to wonder whether such an AI was capable of feeling the way a human like me could. I made a mental note to ask her about it the next time I would see her.

The mere thought of asking her about feelings made my heart flip. I wondered about the infinite possibilities that an AI like her might be in terms of personality. I was sure she was amazing. I wanted to tell her that, too. I wanted to know her, deeply.

Then, she began to dance the way that clone guy had asked her, gladly following the rhythm of the music in a lewd way. I didn't know what twerking was, but I was about to find out that it would make me blush wildly.

The audience devoured her every move with their eyes. I was shocked on account of the sensual performance and the wolf-like reaction from the clones around me.

The crowd was overwhelming. All that yelling and carnal vibes were too much for me. I was feeling a bit dizzy.

I took a few steps away. I put a hand over my mouth and took control of my breathing. Clones loved excess in all areas of life, but I had never seen it with my own eyes.

I realised that my spying mission required me to blend in no matter what. I needed to learn how to let my hair down like that so as not to stand out too much. I'd probably see a similar behaviour in the Sappho Residence: moral decadence and excess anywhere I'd look.

Out of the blue, the crowd parted to make way for the paramedics. A guy had fainted near the bar.

I heard two girls who were standing close to me talk about what had happened. Alcohol was suspected as the cause.

"Not surprised," a girl told her friend. "He went into an alcohol-induced coma last year already. Needed a liver transplant a week after that."

"Really?" her friend replied nonchalantly. "At this rate, I'm getting one too."

"Every weekend, the same old story," the first one added casually. "Who knows! Maybe I'm next!"

I heard the paramedics confirm it. It was indeed an alcohol-induced coma. They took him to the hospital.

I was shocked due to what had just happened. I could see those girls drink even more alcohol. Birds of a feather flock together.

Was that grim scenario what Siegfried had tried to shield me from a few minutes ago? He didn't want me to see something. Was precisely that lack of care towards one's health on behalf of the clones what he thought could hurt me?

Because he was right. It was hurting me: my brother had died because of the clones' bad habits as regards drinking issues.

I wore the most sombre and sad face anyone might've ever worn on a party night in Amanita while the rest of the people there were painting the town red.

I realised I would never blend in. I could not fit.

What was Amanita, really? A place where to waste clone money on drinks that would end up killing them? As far as I could see, everybody was happy, partying hard – as if nothing had happened. Were alcohol-induced comas that common there?

I frowned.

Amanita represented financing their own downfall, both in the short and long term. I bet Agape was smirking from her DJ birdcage.

Nemesis, Sven, and Ray carried on with their respective jobs with the same facial expressions. K8 didn't seem to have noticed the incident at all. She kept on pole-dancing and twerking.

"The way she dances doesn't seem to your liking," a pleasant male voice said right next to me when he saw that I had been negatively affected by what my eyes had just seen.

I instinctively turned my head towards him, and then I froze.

He was a clone guy in his early twenties, with curly blond hair and mesmerising blue eyes.

Eros Nevermore. My target.

"My name is Eros," he said kindly and with a blinding smile.

"Daphne," I replied shyly.

At that moment, it seemed like a bad idea to be there with him. Maybe I should have gone home and met him the next day. I should've made our acquaintance strictly professional. But it was too late.

"I had never seen anyone dance like that," I admitted, blushing.

"Never?" Eros asked, surprised. "It's trendy right now! Have you been living under a rock?"

"You can say that," I replied whispering with mild sarcasm. I felt as if I was a little girl.

"I'm sorry, Eros. I need some fresh air," I said, regretting having bitten Agape's bait.

I was planning to leave the venue, so I started walking toward the exit.

"Wait!" His eyes seemed to glow, but maybe it was the quirky lighting. "Where are you going?"

"Outside."

"The terrace is over there," he said, thinking I wanted to go there instead of leaving for good. "Come with me. "He softly took my hand.

I let him lead me. I didn't know there was a terrace. I could follow him and stay for a little longer, and then I would come up with some excuse to leave.

Eros was taking me in the opposite direction of the exit, where there was a well-designed maze of glass and mirrors, where images of those who entered were reproduced as well as filtering images from the people on the dance floor from time to time, reverberating like a tireless kaleidoscopic echo.

Walking in it felt claustrophobic because the corridors of the maze were getting narrower and narrower, or so I guessed, and those never-ending bouncing images of people dancing without a care in the world were constantly giving me the impression that I was dizzy.

But Eros seemed to know the way. It gave me peace of mind that he knew how to navigate that maze without hesitation.

At the exit of that maze of glass and mirrors, there was a large terrace with a parquet floor and a long semi-circular railing made of stainless steel, where anyone who wished could enjoy the fresh sea breeze and some peace.

The Neon Sea seemed a lot broader, and its fierce, fluorescent waves crashed against the steep wall of rocks of that high cliff on which Amanita had been built.

The smell of sea salt rose sharply from the depths. The music of the waves breaking rhythmically rivalled against the music coming from inside the venue and drowned it.

There was a lounge area, too, where the couples who wished to chill could lie on some nice black sofas under nice, soft lights, creating an intimate and comfortable atmosphere. It was located on the left just outside the maze, which gave it some privacy. I tried not to look that way because there was a couple who was fully invested in a soul kiss.

"You must have extremely traditional and ethically responsible parents, right?" Eros asked me, seeing that I was uncomfortable by the lack of morality of the people dancing inside the venue and the couple in the lounge area.

"I'm afraid so," I answered flatly.

"You're different," he replied with a charming smile.

When he said that, I froze.

"It's just that... I'm not feeling well today," I lied.

"Many of these are friends of mine. Some behave this way because they have already been brought up that way. But some come here to enjoy freedom."

Freedom? In Amanita?

Fact number one: clones were free to do as they pleased – always, everywhere. At least, I thought so. Fact number two: Amanita was a place where clones chose to self-destruct. That wasn't freedom.

Or was it to some point I wasn't ready to understand?

"Do your friends suffer from stressful lives?" I asked him. "Do they need to unwind that bad?"

"Well, yes," he replied casually, but he got sad. "We come here every weekend. You should know what that means. You're here."

So, coming to Amanita meant that to them. It struck me as odd that I had never questioned whether clones suffered stress of any kind. Parents, teachers, and society could become pushy and stressful.

I realised that those clone youngsters did pretty much the same thing as me or my former friends did at Old Sue's clearing, in a different and much wilder format, though.

Amanita's potion had to be taken with caution. It could make you feel a little better and make you enjoy life. It would relieve you, but an overdose could make you lose it forever.

They came there every weekend. Amanita seemed to be like a drug. Maybe that was why, above the frame of the main door of the Amanita, there was a small wall sculpture of the final scene of Romeo and Juliet, where Romeo holds a road with poison close to his mouth, while Juliet is still asleep thanks to a potion from the priest who wanted to help them.

Amanita was precisely that: the poison that could either save you or kill you, pleasure and vice at the same time.

Then, Eros took me out of my reverie. "I don't think I've ever seen you around here, though." He leaned on the railing.

The soft breeze of the night was combing my hair. It felt nice.

"It's the first party I attend here," I whispered.

"It might shock you," he whispered then with a velvety voice that made me feel goosebumps in my soul, "but not all parties here end up either in an alcohol-induced coma or hooking up with someone you barely know."

"I trust your word for it."

I heard a careless, female moan coming from the lounge area. While I was blushing wildly once more, Eros coughed and smiled nervously.

"We could go back inside if you want," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, Eros," I replied trying to get that tantalising moan out of my mind. "I'm gonna call it a night. Gotta work tomorrow."

"Now it's me who's sorry, Daphne," he replied like the Casanova that I had feared he would be. "You look like you don't want to come back here ever again. Promise me I will see you again, please."

"No need to promise that," I replied daringly. "You'll see me tomorrow morning."

"What?" he asked, taken aback.

"Yes," I added with a soft smile. "I'm the new maid, actually. I'm starting tomorrow."

My face must've been funny because he chuckled and smiled broadly out of pure amazement.

"Just don't tell anybody I've been here tonight... sort of... please?" I begged like a child who had been caught doing some mischief.

He giggled. "Wow! You're... You're a trad human? But... What does a trad human do here, in Amanita?"

I winked at him and put my forefinger straight in front of my lips, signalling him to be silent. I was trying to emulate K8's ruthless magnetism – and it must've worked because Eros was left thunderstruck by the railing, gaping at me.

I turned to the mirror maze and left the premises.

Hello, dear readers!

Did you enjoy this chapter? Do you like K8 and Eros?

Stay tuned to know more! 😊

XOXO

MS