United Kingdom, England: London – The International School of London.
Inside a cozy café, the walls and floors were laid with dark, lacquered wood. Warm yellow pendant lights hung at intervals from the ceiling, casting a soft, mellow glow across the polished furniture and elegant layout.
At a small table, an American girl with blonde hair and striking blue eyes watched silently as the boy across from her scraped a thick white cream off his piece of toast, wiped it neatly onto the edge of her plate, and popped the toast into his mouth.
He had stolen it—from her plate, no less.
"You're really not gonna eat the cream? It's good," she said.
"Just looking at it makes me wanna puke. I can't stand the texture. It's gross."
"Do Thai people not like cream?"
"Not as much as Americans do."
"So there are some who like it, then?"
"Yeah, but they're all over 90 kilos"
"You're disgusting."
A server approached their table and collected the money Jody had placed down—exact change.
"Thank you very much for visiting. We hope to see you again soon," the staff member said politely.
Neither of them replied. Jody simply offered a smile, picked up her bag, and stood up along with Syd as they prepared to leave.
"I'll pay next time. This one on you Jo"
"You always say that," Jody replied, nonchalant.
"I mean—sure, I'm late, but I pay, don't I?"
"Sure, sure, rich boy. Hey, aren't you gonna tip?"
"Tip?"
Syd turned back to glance at the table.
"Nah."
"But it's customary here."
"Ain't no single credits slippin' out my bank account with that 4/10 services."
"You're so stingy."
"Money's money. You know?"
Jody and Syd exited the café, leaving behind a room full of stunned students.
Because the truth was—no one dared raise their voice at Jody. No one dared speak to her harshly. And absolutely no one had ever spoken to her with such ease and familiarity.
It was an unspoken rule around here.
Among students with special powers, everyone knew—Jody Johansson was one of the most dangerous people in this school. You do not want to make her mad unless you fancy a hospital bed.
Still, they all had a rough idea why Syd got away with it.
Because of what he did a few days ago.
As for Jody, ever since she'd met Syd, she realized something—
No matter how sarcastic or biting he got with her, she never felt angry. Not even once.
Because there was something undeniably interesting about this guy.
And some of the things he said... didn't line up with the "official" version of him she'd read about on Wikipedia.
The two of them had only just stepped out of the café and were on their way through the main hall to class when—
They ran into her.
A girl, around their age. Caucasian. Thick makeup. Black eyeliner. Black lipstick. Long pink hair streaked with green.
She stood right in their path.
And it wasn't like they didn't know who she was.
They'd had a run-in with her just yesterday.
Despite the nervous look on her face—despite the fear in her eyes—she stepped forward anyway, forcing the words out in her best proper English accent:
"Syd Barrett… Jody Johansson… Let's make a deal."