I contacted Mr. Iero, last night. He didn't seem surprised by my decision, but he still asked me if I was certain that I wanted to work with him. At last, he asked me to pack my things and wear something discreet. Pete will come get me tomorrow, at 9 a.m.

After finishing to pack my belongings, I have a hard time falling asleep. Maybe am I too worried about my new life, or maybe am I only heartbroken to give up on my current one.

It's nearly 8 in the morning, I'd better get dressed. I put on my most simple shirt, my usual pair of boots and shoulder straps accompanied with brown pants and my tweed jacket. As I finish lacing my shoes, I hear tires screeching outside. Is Pete already there? I peek outside and find myself in view of... Urie? What is he doing here?

Urie turns off his car and looks up at my window. Taken aback, I hide behind the curtains, shuddering. Urie doesn't hesitate. He heads for the narrow entry. Soon, I hear the sound of hurried footsteps... He is approaching.

Urie knocks on the door vehemently. "Gerard! Are you there?" 

I freeze on the spot, bewildered. Should I... open the door? If he sees me dressed that way, luggage in hand... What do I tell him? I can always lie to him and tell him that I am going home, but I can't fool him... He is too smart for that. He will immediately see that it isn't true!

I can't... I can't open this door.

"Gerard! Open the door! It's me, it's Urie!" I hear the despair in his voice. I decided not to open the door, but I am really on edge. Melancholia overwhelms me as I hear his familiar voice.

He surely came because he didn't get to see me last night. Sarah must have told him that I was leaving... Ah, I don't know if I will ever see him again...

"Gerard! Gerard! Gerard!" His knocking deafens me and makes the door tremble a little. I can't help but to place my hand on the wooden surface, unconsciously. I don't know why, but I am sad. Urie, my friend... Please go.

Perhaps he heard my silent prayer, because the knocking stops all of a sudden. I am all ears, expecting to hear him walk away, but I can only hear a faint noise.

A piece of paper is slid beneath the door. I hear him sigh deeply, then he leaves. In the midst of my confusion,  I pick up the piece of paper.

Gerard, I hope that I can be of any help to you, whatever the problems that you are encountering. Don't forget to contact me.
– Your friend, Urie.

Urie... I squeeze the piece of paper while listening to the sound of his footsteps become more and more quiet and he leaves, the same way my dreams and success are slowly fading away from me. I am about to enter the world of crime to seek the truth...

Tears well in my eyes. To make them disappear, I grit my teeth and blink repeatedly. Pete will be here any second. I must not cry.

As if on cue, I hear another knock on my door. I sniffle. "Come in."

"Mr. Way, I am here to pick you up." Pete grins at me, holding onto his belt. Holding back my tears, I take a few deep breaths and nod.

"Alright, just a second."

I hide Urie's note in my bag. Before leaving, I glance one last time at the flat in which I stayed for nearly a year. Every corner seems to hold traces of my life. Goodbye...

Pete drives around in the city for a little while before taking a turn in a discreet alley. Once we parked, I follow him to a quite ordinary-looking villa. Still a villa though.

Pete knocks on the door. "Boss, Mr. Way is here."

The door opens, revealing Mr. Iero. I expected him to look a bit more casual than usual, fitting the context. But he is wearing a three-piece suit to his habit, with the same silver chain holding a pocket watch.

"Very well. You can go," Mr. Iero nods at his right-hand man. Pete sets down my suitcases and leaves Mr. Iero and I alone in the room. Standing at the door, I evaluate the inside of the villa. The outside can seem a little commonplace, but the inside is richly furnished.

The dominant shade is a warm beige, declined in different sorts of cream and gold, including golden oak for some furniture, and darker colors such as a rust carpet to contrast in colors. The walls are decorated with paintings or mirrors. The ceiling is high, a golden chandelier hanging from it. Is it Mr. Iero's secret hiding spot?

Mr. Iero gives me a warm smile. "Mr. Way, I am going to brief you on what you will do."

I nod. "I am listening."

He invites me to sit down. I take a seat on a beige couch, and he sits down on another couch in front of me, a coffee table separating us. I just notice there is a porcelain and flowery tea kettle on it. Mr. Iero grabs it and fills a cup. For the first time, I pay attention to his gloveless hands. They are tanned, rough and tattooed. Mr. Iero looks at me and I shake my head, so he takes the silver cup for himself.

"Your new identity is Arthur Dawn, a countryside boy from Virginia," he tells me.

I hum. "Good thought. Arthur is my middle name so it will be easier for me to remember and identify to it."

"I know," Mr. Iero comments before sipping his tea. The silence lets me wonder how he knows that. I figure that he may have sent someone to investigate me. The thought doesn't bother me all that much as we are allies. I just hope that it will stay that way. Mr. Iero is undeniably a dangerous man.

"You came to New York alone, in the hope of finding a job at a factory," Mr. Iero finally resumes. "You met Patrick, a member of the mafia, and you fell for him But Patrick is a ruthless lowlife. He sold you to the Sparrow Hall, the cabaret, to pay his debts."

Wow, that's very theatrical...

"Hold on," I interrupt. "First off, what do you mean 'fall for Patrick'?" I tilt my head confusedly. He smirks slightly.

"I mean that you fall in love with him."

My eyes widen. I still have trouble to process the idea. "Fall for a man? I mean, I don't believe I am an invert."

He chuckled, an eyebrow arched amusedly. "Why should that matter? This is an act, Mr. Way, don't forget that. You are on a mission, so don't let your feelings overwhelm you, and play your part. It is all I am asking you. Why I choose for things to happen this way is up to me. You will understand, if everything goes according to plan. Do not worry about that. Let's take this step by step."

"Alright. I'll do it." I nod. He takes another sip and a look around.

"I will ask someone to the Sparrow Hall. It is one of Solazzo's properties, and he often goes there."

Mr. Iero takes a picture out of his pocket. I grab it and discover the black and white image of a tall and strong man in his late thirties, wearing a thin mustache, a suit and a bowtie. I can feel the confidence radiating from the sheet of paper, judging by how he swells his chest and smiles through his cigar.

"This is Angelo Solazzo, your target."

I look at the picture intently, then I nod to tell Mr. Iero that I memorized it.

"Patrick will come and get you in 10 minutes. To prevent any suspicion, you will have to convince them that your boyfriend 'sold you'."

I nod again. "I never thought that a spy would also have to be an actor..."

Mr. Iero looks at me gravely, his legs crossed. "That is only the beginning. As soon as you arrive at the Sparrow Hall, you must play the part of 'Arthur Dawn'."

"I understand."

Mr. Iero and I stay quiet after these instructions. He peers at me in the eye with an undecipherable expression, then speaks up again.

"Solazzo is the owner of this place, so you will see a lot of members of the mafia come and go. No matter what happens, stay careful and alert. Here is my number. Call me if you are confronted with an insurmountable situation. But remember, do it in the most absolute secret."

A knock rises just after he finishes his sentence. "Boss, it's time."

Mr. Iero smiles at me with more faith in me than I have in myself. "Mr. Way, I wish you to succeed."

"You may have the impression that I am too confident and casual about this... But believe me, I will shed light on this case."

I grab my luggage with determination and I leave the house. Patrick, Mr. Iero's man, came to pick me up. He is short but his fedora makes him appear a bit taller. He is the 'ruthless lowlife' who will put on an act with me. He is spying on the Solazzo family for Mr. Iero. As a matter of fact, he is a spy just like me.

As we head for the Sparrow Hall, we discuss about our plan. We arrive in a matter of minutes. In the middle of the day, the Sparrow Hall is oddly empty. It is only open at night.

Patrick opens the car door for me, bends down and takes my hand. He winks at me – the sign that it's showtime.

Patrick starts shouting as he is dragging me inside. "Lana! Madam Lana!"

Possibly one of the most graceful women I have ever seen enters the empty hall. Her high heels click on the varnished floor, except when she walks on carpet. Her dark brown curls spread like a waterfall on her neck, decorated with expensive-looking necklaces. She is wearing a silk dress, a black fur scarf on her arms that she keeps furled around her waist, and long, black gloves.

"Did you bring me something else?" she asks, her voice deep, poised and theatrical. "Where did you..."

Patrick tells me to wait here while he whispers something to the beautiful woman before him. Her confusion seems to vanish. She observes me intently, batting her fake eyelashes. After examining me from eye to toe, she nods at Patrick with a certain contempt.

"Arthur, come here!" Patrick shouts at me. I docilely come closer, trying my best to play the role of the naive countryside boy.

"You will work here from now on," Patrick states. He is playing so well, what a contrast with the sweet man I talked to in the car an hour ago.

"Here? But, you said that you would take me to a factory..." I say softly.

"If you are willing to work hard, you will make a lot more here."

"But... What should I do?" I ask.

"Mrs. Lana will explain that to you." Patrick looks at the woman, Madam Lana, then he heads out. My cruel...boyfriend if about to abandon me. I should...

I grab Patrick's arm, staring at him with what I hope are well-done puppy eyes. "Patrick, wait!"

Tugging his arm away, he gives me a cold look. "Let me go. I am going where the hell, I want to. That's none of your business. Did you think I was stupid? Didi you think I would subsidize and support a trash country boy like you? Don't wish for what you cannot have!"

"But- but... Last month, you said-"

"I've come across so many insignificant people like you. My poor Arthur, if you knew..."

Patrick pushes me away and leaves the Sparrow Hall. I try to go after him, but two bouncers block my way. I hear Madam Lana's voice behind me.

"Sorry, boy. You can't leave this place."

I turn around, dumbfounded. "You... What does this mean? Patrick! Patrick, wait for me!" I shout at the door.

"Stop screaming. He sold you to me," she says and I gasp when I notice she stepped closer. She is wearing a confident smile, the kind of smile that belongs to a person who has the certitude of being in perfect control.

I have to say, even if I know that I am not as in much trouble as I seem, I am still feeling intimidated by this woman and the situation. It occurs to mee that people before me surely went through the same process. There are people out there getting sold like slaves, in the city I've been living in.

"What? He sold me? Let me go! I want to leave this place!" I cry.

"I don't think so, darling. I own you now, it is not up to you to decide where you can go."

As if on cue, the two tough bouncers approached me menacingly. I burst down in tears, hiding my face with my hands as I sob bitterly. "Patrick, why did you do this to me... Let me go..."

Madam Lana awes, frowning. She places her soft, gloved hand on my cheek and I unconsciously lean into the gentle touch. "Aw, honey, it's no use to cry like that for men. You will get over it. It's not the first time he sells me people. You're the first boy he brings to me though. I can see why. You're such a gentle boy..."

She gently grabs my face with her hand and makes me tilt my head a little. She observes my features carefully, evaluating me once again. I don't know what to answer to this and when she lets me go, I resume sobbing.

"My boy,  you have no one else in New York. You have lodging and food here, so what would you complain about? And as long as the clients appreciate you, you could earn a hundred times the wage you would have made at the factory. Besides, here, you will be able to be who you really are without fearing the consequences of being an invert. You will even get to dance for men and express yourself. You're safe here," she assures softly, like a benevolent mother.

I pretend to be recomforted by her word, and sob more quietly.

"Workers at the factory work 12 hours a day, almost for free. But here, you will only have to dance, smile, and money will fall right in your lap," she adds.

While listening to Madam Lana, I can't help but to be impressed by her ability to fool people. She has probably told this to dozens of naive, young girls before. Persuading dancers to sell themselves and their dignity against money... She makes it sound like such a dream. But as Arthur Dawn from a poor farm of Virginia... I would probably be convinced too.

"You... You think?" I look up, naive and powerless, as if I was about to give in.

She puts a hand on the crook of my neck patronizingly. "Of course, I can assure you."

Now that I ceased to resist, Madam Lana calls a beautiful girl with platinum blonde hair and big blue eyes. She looks like a doll and barely looks 20. "Claire, give him a shower and something to eat."

Claire looks at Madam Lana, surprised. "To this- this man?" She points at me.

"Yes, Claire. Meet Arthur, your new coworker."

The girl is still not over her surprise as I follow her through the hall. This hall is full of glitter, gold, crystal chandeliers and velvet curtains. Coupled with the large stage, tables and the bars, show that it's truly dedicated to celebrations and shows.

Claire leads me to the dancers' bedrooms. Once Madam Lana is out of sight, I start to untense a little. I succeeded in infiltrating the Sparrow Hall.