Kristoffer looks up at the modern rectangular building, scraping the dark clouds in the light-polluted sky with the crystal glass covering the sides of the building. He walks to the door, looking at the man at the front door. He has white hair, gelled back into a side-part. He has golden brown skin, deep wrinkles of a smiling face, deep brown eyes, and a smart black blazer and trousers, complete with a crimson tie. He looks disinterested with standing around by the door, but his face lights up once he lays eyes on Kristoffer.

'Ah, Kristoffer! Just the man I've been looking for. I am Stuart, lovely to meet you,' He has an American accent. He holds out his hand for Kristoffer to shake, which he does. He has a strong grip, despite his miniature height, 'Come in, come in.'

They make their way into the pearly white walls, the elevator silver with the metal composing the walls. He presses the button with the number 5 on it (probably out of about 30).

'You sent in the presentation, right?' Stuart asks, raising a fluffy white eyebrow at him.

'Yes, I did. We're presenting at 9, if I recall correctly,' Kristoffer replies, pushing one of his locs to the other side of his head – it was flipped over to the wrong side.

'Yes, yes. You are a smart man,' Stuart grins as he exits the elevator, opening a set of double doors, 'Before you do anything, you must go speak to Edwina. They run this whole operation. They'll most likely be... ah, over there.'

Stuart points to a person with curly black hair in a bushy afro around their head, dark brown skin and hooded, slightly judgemental orange eyes like a hawk. They wear a white shirt with a red tie, a green knit jumper over the top with a pair of pinstripe trousers and thick-soled black boots. They look over a group of people, giving a polite wave and pushing through a few crowds of businesspeople talking aristocratically.

'Hello Kristoffer. I'm Edwina Ashbourne, but you can call me Eddie,' Eddie holds their hand out to shake, flashing a white-toothed grin. Kristoffer notices a few little pins on their jumper – one says "They/Them", the other with a transgender flag. Kristoffer also notices a little patch of white in their hair.

'Nice to meet you. Where will we be presenting?' Kristoffer inquires, eyes roving the room. It seems packed full of rich people, all different but very, very rich. He feels a bit out of place, but keeps his composure. He notices Stuart has disappeared. He also notices Walter English in the corner, getting rather drunk off a glass of red wine.

'Just in that room over there. You've got about twenty minutes before we all go in, I suggest setting up soon,' Eddie replies, smoothing down their jumper and pointing behind their shoulder with their thumb, 'Get yourself a drink first. That's half of the fun.'

Kristoffer notices the outline of a sharp object strapped to the inside of their sleeve. They pat him on the shoulder with a strong hand, disappearing back into a crowd. He pushes through the crowds, apologies flooding from his mouth meaninglessly. Until...

'Piercebridge.'

Kristoffer turns on his heel, sighing as he sees the person behind him. He looks different these days, light blonde hair grown out to his ears and shiny silver half-moon glasses on his previously broken nose.

'Niall. This place isn't for you.'

'Hey, calm those gay boots of yours,' Niall holds his hands up, laughing softly. Kristoffer curls his fists, 'I'm good now. Promise. Never going back to the AMI.'

'Let's hope you can keep this promise better than the one where you said you would protect Eudora forever, huh?' Kristoffer snarls, walking away from Niall, leaving him stumbling for words.

*

'Overall, the AMI is far from redeveloping, since new laws have been introduced by the magical representatives of our government, like Gary Underwood and Luna Harheart. Thank you,' Kristoffer concludes, trying not to focus on the thousand or so eyes on him at the front of the room. The walls are sage green flowers, with oak panelling and a cream carpet, a few long tables with every seat filled with people. A rain of applause meets his ears, and he smiles back at the crowd, handing the microphone back to Eddie.

'Thank you, Kristoffer and Stuart for that wonderful presentation. Now, before our next presentation on magical biology, I'd like to give a quick speech myself-'

Kristoffer's eyes catch at the back of the hall. He notices Niall slipping out of the door, looking over both of his shoulders before totally escaping.

'About the level of minorities in the magical community, especially around London, Kent, and Liverpool-'

A few people are missing from their chairs – since when did they leave, and how? He had seen them during his presentation, especially interested in his words. He looks across the stage. Stuart is also missing.

'As this is a topic close to my heart. I am a queer, non-binary, Black British business person, and it has given me some setbacks in my career, for example-'

Kristoffer slips to the backstage area, running down the dark empty sides of the room. He slides out of the door, making sure it doesn't make too loud of a bang as he exits. The hallways are long, with dim linen lighting and minimal decorations. As he runs after Niall, he bumps into somebody rather short, holding a glass of red wine. It spills down his white trousers, the crimson soaking through them like blood.

'Ah, Kristoffer! I have not seen you in years,' Walter is red faced, speaking with a slow slur in his voice, 'You are a smart man, that speech was amazing. How is Ashley Rockefeller, hm?'

'He's good, but that's not his last name anymore... Walter, I really need to leave. See you around,' Kristoffer pushes his hands forwards gently to excuse him. He reaches a fork in the corridor – Niall went right, he can hear his boots clattering against the shiny marble floors. Niall suddenly flattens himself to a wall. Kristoffer runs up behind him, wanting to ask him where he's going. Niall only places a calloused, scarred hand over his mouth, gently shushing him. He gives him a wise yet sharp look over his glasses.

'Is that blood on your trousers?' Niall whispers, more of a lip read. Kristoffer only shakes his head, earning a suspicious shrug from Niall.

A conversation is happening behind the wall they are pressed to. It's kind of muffled, but Kristoffer can make out the words.

'I don't want this, guys. Please,' He sounds a bit like Stuart, 'I'm getting along well.'

'But that's not how we roll, Jackson. Do you want this the easy way or the hard way?'

'...Neither. Please. My daughter. My only child. She just had a baby back in New York. I want to go meet my grandson.'

'You should've coughed up the money when we asked. Twelve thousand five hundred and seventy-nine pounds. That could've saved your ass.'

'No. Don't do this to m-'

A gunshot rings through the echoey corridors. Kristoffer tenses up. They're too far, too secluded from the hall. No one will notice for a long time. He watches as the blood sprays up the piece of white wallpaper he can see. Niall gives Kristoffer this look. A look that says "We need to fucking run".

They begin to run as quietly as they can to a darker area. They watch as five or so people walk back to the hall. Two look like female twins, leading the other three. Long blonde hair below their waists, the same height, same clothes, same walk, and the same porcelain comedy/tragedy mask covering their faces. In fact, everyone following them has the same mask. Kristoffer fiddles with the two rings on the fourth finger of his left hand. Both silver, one a simple band, the other with a small diamond. The only thing keeping him in reality is the feeling of the metal under his fingers, and the thought that they match. A symbol of love, no matter how stupid. They match. The same on Ashton's hand. As soon as he goes home, he can forget about this.

*

No one's noticed yet. Kristoffer is sat down at a table, looking out of the window. No one is sat around him. No one is observant is this place. Rich snobs, Kristoffer thinks to himself. Someone finally sits down next to him.

'So, how is everything, Kristoffer?' It's Eddie, their smile big and welcoming, pointy canines shining through in brilliant white, 'And how's Ashton? Poor guy's been through shit, huh?'

'Yeah. It's not the best thing for him, but he's coping these days,' Kristoffer mutters. Eddie props their face in their hands, nodding gently along as he speaks, 'It's given him some fears too. Like fire. Fire and him just... don't mix. He can't even be around it, no matter how small. But I'm all good. I've found a job I really enjoy, friends who support me, a loving household. Things are pretty perfect, in my opinion.'

'I guess so. I've been dealing with quite a bit. Government hits you like a bitch when you're magic, hm?' They nudge Kristoffer slightly, earning a gentle laugh from him, 'No, I'm all good here. Loved your speech, by the way. Was not expecting such an amazingly worded speech. You're clearly passionate about the issue. I need more people like that.'

'Oh, thanks,' Kristoffer smiles, before his eyes flicker up to the wall clock. 11:30 pm, 'Lovely meeting you, Eddie, but I have to go. Ashton's going to worry himself that I've died. See you around?'

'I'd love to welcome you back soon, Kristoffer. Enjoy the rest of your evening!'

*

Ashton is curled up on the sofa, watching Scott Pilgrim vs. The World on their TV.

Their home.

As soon as Kristoffer enters the room, Ashton raises an eyebrow at him. His eyes flicker from his face to his legs.

'Is that blood on your trousers?' Ashton queries as Kristoffer sits next to him. Kristoffer's eyes dart to Ashton's hand.

Matching. They're matching. Same shape. Different people. Same love. Same jewel. Same metal.

'No. Bumped into a very drunk Walter English,' Kristoffer shakes the image of the blood on the walls out of his mind. Ashton laughs softly, eyes turning to him. Kristoffer still gets that same feeling when Ashton looks at him. That feeling that someone's punched him in the stomach with that fuzzy, nervous feeling accompanying it.

Ashton pauses the film and takes Kristoffer's hand in his.

Matching. Matching. Matching.

'So, how was it?' Ashton asks. His eyes have a glint in them. It makes Kristoffer want to say yes. Yes, it was perfect. I didn't see Niall, and I didn't see somebody get murdered. Yes.

'It was good, yeah. I met a few nice people too. I'm going to bed now. See you in the morning,' Kristoffer kisses the back of Ashton's hand, standing up to leave. Kristoffer pulls off his clothes, falling into bed. He covers himself with the warm duvet, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't give himself the sleep his body craves so dearly.

Twelve thousand five hundred and seventy-nine pounds.
Twelve thousand five hundred and seventy-nine pounds.
Twelve thousand five hundred and seventy-nine pounds.
The sound of the gunshot.