Perfect Liar - Loki Laufeyson

Such aversion had led her to manipulate the truth to her family when she had made the rash decision to attend a university in the South of Germany- Stuttgart, specifically. The false reasoning given was simply that it was barely a path she intended to follow, that applying was a mere test to know if she would be accepted- but the decision had grown on her. Somehow, the gullible Clarke family members believed such misinformation and accepted it regrettably. Alternatively, Amira hardly held regret in her heart; If she had to be entirely honest with herself, she was oddly relieved to leave the suffocating, restricting life that bound her to one dull, predictable city.

She had calculated such plans for several years, although Amira's selection of her course being Psychological Studies, was entirely based on her judge of character, being inexplicably accurate in understanding an individual, and most specifically, ability to deduce if someone was being deceptive- lying specifically. She never quite knew why this was, but she at least knew she was able to excel in that area, and decided to take advantage of such an unusual trait.

Amira's years studying in Stuttgart had been tedious. To her advantage, though, she had sacrificed those pained years in order to maintain high grades in exchange for high pay, and most definitely to make acquaintances in high places, which were her intentions. Amira would be lying if she were to say she wasn't power hungry, in desperate need for recognition and appreciation that she had been deprived of.

After several years of driven academic success and formulating relationships with those more successful than herself, in order to climb her way up the academic social ladder, Amira had landed herself borderline satisfied enough to leave Germany in search of more.

Landing herself a successful career, she moved to New York City. Gaining herself quite the expensive apartment, she found herself... content in her present situation. She most certainly had power in her career, finances that many would envy, and was recognised widely for her efforts, but it was getting rather tedious.

One evening, upon reaching her upper-floor apartment, Amira exhaustedly typed the code to allow herself in: 107207. She dragged herself through the door to kick her shoes off almost immediately. Despite what she gained from it, her work quite fully drained her to a point of enjoying her achievements much less.

Looking back, it had come to her attention that letters had sat upon the floor in the doorway that she had since walked over. Shaking her head, her deep, dyed-copper hair, fell from being tied back rather poorly and framed her face in a portrait of her own stress. She had made the conclusion that the letters could manage waiting on the floor for a hour or so more; If it were urgent, she figured that she would have been contacted by now.

Thus, Amira allowed herself to collapse onto the cold leather sofa that sat before the long windows that posed as walls, looking out onto the city she now called home.

'Home,' did not quite seem to fit anywhere, but this was the closest she had felt to it. She looked down upon the illuminated city in the dark; full to the brim with diverse life, interesting life and opportunities- yet she still felt adrift from it all, and found herself lost in thought that led her to feeling unsatisfied, yet again.

Hours had passed before her deep amber eyes, as she remained entranced by the small, microscopic luminated windows she could see below her. Seeing more and more turn off, her gaze finally drifted to notice the night had passed to 2:23am. Bringing a heavy hand to her forehead, she sighed audibly, knowing she must bring herself to stand.

After hesitating, she brought herself to walk slowly past her lounge. With intention to approach the bedroom, her eyes darted back to the letters upon the floor that had waited patiently. With both curiosity and desperate wish for a distraction to avoid sleep, she eagerly obtained the envelopes in her hand and walked to the bedroom with them.

Amira's apartment was by no means a penthouse, but she was fortunate enough to find herself with a large bedroom that also overlooked the city with the same windows as her lounge possessed, which illuminated the room softly.

Letting herself fall onto the double bed, the letters landed gracefully beside her- on the unoccupied side. Covering herself with the cold white sheets, she turned on her side to look at the envelopes before her. Brushing her, now untamed, hair away from her, she grasped the objects to her side.

The first three were of no importance, as anticipated: billing, expenses and banking documents. With little hope for the final letter, she tore it open impatiently with little expectations.

Although, after scanning the document, a weak smile had grown upon her visage. It was no other than an invite back to Stuttgart, by one of her past acquaintances during her studies. It seemed to be to quite an exquisite gala being held in a museum in Konigstrasse on the Saturday of the nearing weekend.

She did not smile from being invited by someone that she knew, it was perhaps the reasoning that it broke her normality. It fractured her routine so beautifully, opening opportunity for something eventful to take place to entertain her sanity.

She did not anticipate just how much that expectation would be met.