The alarm clock vibrated gently on the bedside table. Cid opened his eyes before the alarm sounded. As was often the case these past few days, he had slept with one eye open. His mind was spinning around one thing: Mia.
He told himself it was absurd, but he couldn't erase the image of the tray with the two glasses. It wasn't extraordinary, nothing to write home about. But it hadn't been the only strange thing lately. Sometimes he thought he heard Mia talking to herself in her room. There was even one night when he could have sworn he heard a man's laugh. Fleeting. Low. Like a whisper.
But Mia seemed gentle, natural, and above all... perfectly normal. Too normal.
"You're becoming paranoid," he murmured, running a hand over his face.
In the kitchen, Mia hummed while she spread the toast. She wore a little pale pink apron, her hair tied back in a messy bun. If she was hiding something, she did it with formidable acting talent. Which, for Cid, was all the more troubling... because he was the actor in the story.
"Would you like some honey or jam?" she asked when she saw him approach.
"Surprise me," he replied with an almost natural smile.
They ate quickly, like every morning. Then Cid grabbed his keys.
"Come on, let's drive, miss."
Every day, he dropped her off in front of Rose's boutique, where Mia worked as an assistant. Fashion, beauty treatments, a place where everything seemed superficial, but which she loved. After dropping her off, Cid rushed to the set where the cameras, spotlights, and scripts were waiting at the last minute.
That day, Mia greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, then rushed into the store.
"Have a nice day! And don't forget to smile even if you're playing a psychopath, right?"
"He smiles, I know... but not with his eyes," he retorted with a wink.
That afternoon, Mia found herself alone. Rose had gone out on an errand, the other employees had finished their shifts. She decided to take the opportunity to tidy up. That's when a familiar voice sounded near the entrance.
"Are you talking to yourself or practicing an incantation?"
Fran. He had this habit of appearing without making a sound.
"Just sorting the products." What are you doing here?
"Just checking on you. You know, with recent events..."
She nodded. Fran took a seat near the counter. They chatted about this and that, punctuating their conversation with a few jokes and knowing digs. Mia loved these moments. Even though Fran had a troubled past and deep pockets, he was honest with her. At least, she thought so.
But she was unaware that, during their conversation, Cid, who had unusually returned early from filming, was driving past the store. He saw a male figure sitting with her and accelerated, frowning. He said nothing. But a new doubt had just arisen.