We're in the cafeteria I'm finally chowing down on a burger.

 I honestly can't say how much I missed this cause my mouth's stuffed with food so I'll choke and die.

Wow, I have gotten so much closer to death recently.

"Asher how did you get detention so fast?" Zac asks, guessing it happened earlier while I was napping during trigonometry.

 He shrugs and says, "Guess the teachers here don't like it if you snort cocaine in the middle of class." That raises questions in my head. 

"No teacher likes that dumb ass." Zac scolds smacking him on the back of his head.

"Come on, I'm just trying to have fun here. Besides, AP Dealing allows it."

 I shake my head enjoying this back and forth movement.

These two are actually pretty cool.

It's odd how they're brothers. 

But I see it, they're twin like because duh they are literally twins. One's more responsible than the other.

Sure Asher has a head full of dope but he's funny, Zac is kind, smart and I feel a sense of danger around him and he's pretty hot. 

Unlike the douche we left at home.

"Um, Ryan said we have an assignment." I say remembering our purpose here, "Oh yeah."

" We have to kill Mason." 

I almost fall off my chair. 

Did he just say we need to kill Mason? 

And he said it indifferently as if he's telling the time. 

"Why?!How?" he looks me in the eyes and sighs, like trying to find a way of telling a child that her hamster's died. "Mason's not originally from this school, he's a legacy. He left and when you leave you can't be trusted and sources say he's been contacting the cops lately. So automatically we have to terminate the threat. Like obviously."

As much as I hate the son of a potato, I can't actually kill him. Warmth fills my hand as his touches mine. 

"You have to do this Lena to show that you're with us. It can save your own life." 

That phrase, it can save your life. Isn't that a tad bit selfish? To save my own life?

I breathe out some air which I didn't even realize I had been keeping in this entire time. 

His eyes are completely focused on me. 

I can't even hear my heart anymore.

 Do I even have a heart anymore? 

The words being said to me just sound so ambient and muffled, the noise around us beats the back of my skull with a baseball bat.

 The information I can remember is still pending, difficult to process I just need to focus.

 Focus. Focus.

"Do you understand Lena?" the first thing that registers said by Zac is a question I do not have an answer to. 

"No, I'm s..so.. sorry I didn't hear you." I stutter. 

He sighs and brushes his fingers through his hair. 

"Okay, we know that tonight there's a football match against the Lakers. Right. So we have a guy in that team who's supposed to fake an injury by him. That will take him out for some time. We are anticipating that he'll go to the locker room to think or whatever. You and I will act as if we got lost and stumbled in there or something like that. You would already have a gun in your hand but because that place is so dimly lit he won't be able to see it, our presence is distracting enough and I know for a fact that you are excellent at shooting targets."

 The beat is back. 

I panic because of that.

 How does he know that? 

Sure I used to go to the station every holiday just because I wanted to be a police officer, I used to shoot. 

But that was what?

 Three years ago?

 I knew that was impossible for me to achieve even though the chief thought I had potential, I could not let him know about me and my mom that would have meant trouble.

 I hate when people press into my past.

 It's too painful and it's not anybody else's business. 

"How do you know that?" he groans and says, "Lena when will you keep up? We researched you and we know everything about you, we have to so that we don't have any loose ends to tie. It's kidnapping 101. Seriously. Okay but do you understand me now?" 

I don't think about it and nod. 

But in truth, it's false to say that you know everything about someone. I doubt any of these lunatics know the real problems I've been hiding.

"You'll have to shoot then." I flinch at the thought of having to kill someone.

 It's just not in my nature. Sure, I've been an accomplice since I can remember, but I've never actually killed any body.

 I don't want to, but it's his life or mine. 

What's the natural answer to you?

Indirect P.O.V

Explosive music blared as a once marching band run school abandoned its traditional match music, its interlude was loud modern underground music blaring from the speakers. 

The wet grass overrun by grizzly adolescents working toward the first score.

Sweaty bodies colliding with each other barely leaving space to breathe in between tackles. 

The cheering of the massive crowd oblivious of what will soon transpire. 

The person that was mentioned earlier arrived soon about to take his stance, his part in this is extremely significant for if he does this wrong the whole plot would be unraveled and the perpetrators would have to start all over again. 

The assassins stand closely together watching over the match. 

The moment is getting close. 

The girl waits agitated and anxious about what she is about to do. Her knuckle white fingers clutch her weapon tightly as if afraid to drop the M1161. 

For most people it would be hefty and difficult to hold but for her, it fits perfectly, light to the grip, her eyes fixed on the game at play. 

She worries not of whether she will be able to kill him or not.

 That part is easy. 

She fears that she might lose a part of herself, the last part which loves, feels. She finds laughter to be the best medicine for her pain. 

Like every comedian she laughs her pain out.

 Her beating heart like a caged hummingbird, using every ounce of its essence to escape soon to be injured, soon to retire too soon to crash like a Microsoft Application. 

Her accomplice beside her,is  a complete sympathizer.

She knows not of his feelings for her, he is unsure, after all they only met that day. He knows what his best friend will do to her. 

He doesn't want to be responsible for another innocent soul's destruction. 

Not again. 

He is troubled by the past and equally as he is by the sullenness and compliance of the girl at his side.

The pawn fakes his injury successfully. (Asher)

 And awaits his turn to run off so he can get the getaway car.

On queue Mason is taken out.

Aggravated he storms off in the direction of the building leaving the field in order to clear his thoughts, a habit he has carried for a while. 

He's oblivious to the sinister shadows which mirror every step he makes. 

Adrenaline pumps vigorously through their veins.

Fueling one's anger, another's thirst for death and the rarest, her lust for survival.

Mason Harvey. 

All he wants is to be normal. 

Play a harmless game of football.

Away from his deathly crafts. This school is his escape from the deadly world with which he wants nothing to do. As thickheaded and arrogant as he is, he's still human .

And because of that a bullet can kill him. 

Precisely what he is being directed to.

Inescapable...

Death.