The doors of the bus hiss open, as I get to my feet, which are encased in regulation black flats. After the longest bus ride ever, I'm finally here. Stepping off into the grey light of early Autumn, I turn, looking for the familiar symbol. A black, lower-case m, outlined in white, on a blue background.
"Oh, come on! Where are you?" I mutter to myself, as my heavy bag drags me down. It's full of nothing useful, apart from my laptop, but it adds to my disguise, alongside the short pencil skirt, white polo shirt and small green bow clipped into my shoulder-length, dark hair. Personally, I hate the lot of it, but as one of the youngest of The Movellians, it's very convincing. After all, what's more innocent than a little schoolgirl?
I turn and head down a side street, having spotted the familiar symbol hanging in a shop window. It was there for a second, but I spotted it. Let's just hope I was the only one who did, and not one of the Watchers.
Each time I look, I see the tiny symbol, before it disappears again. I must get to the location in...2 minutes, but without running. If you run, you draw attention to yourself, as no girls run anymore. It's due to the new law in place. It Is Illegal For Anyone To Wear Makeup Without A Permit, 'cause we "don't know we're beautiful". Nobody wants to run and get sweaty anymore, without being allowed to cover the blotchiness with concealer.
The last symbol flashes up, in the window of a Krispy Kreme store. Just one more hurdle to leap over, and I'm there. I have to do it in less than a minute though, or I'll be late. The code phrase is permanently etched into my mind, as I enter the shop.
The rich smell of freshly baked doughnuts, melted chocolate and sugar frosting, makes my mouth water furiously. I forgot I haven't eaten anything today, but my growling stomach remembers. I can't stop though. All I have to do is say the code phrase, and I'm through.
"Hi, can I get a custom doughnut to go please?" I ask cheerily, grinning from ear to ear, as the bored-looking assistant behind the counter, turns her attention away from her copy of Directioner magazine.
"What filling and topping do you want?" She replies boredly, blowing a bubble with her chewing gum.
"Can I get a canned tuna filling, with a strawberry glazed topping please?" I ask, completing the first part of the code phrase.
"Regular, or large?" The assistant asks, popping her gum bubble.
"Large please. Oh, and I think I left my keys here by accident. You haven't found them, by any chance?" I ask, completing the final part of the code phrase.
It's one of the best code phrases ever, as although someone may genuinely leave their keys behind, nobody would order such a disgusting flavour combination.
"Go check in the staff room." She replies, letting me behind the counter, and through the back door. I go right into the abandoned staffroom, over to the odd chair (it's the only blue one in a room full of red ones) and flip the catch open.
The odd chair, and the piece of floor it's on, flips up to reveal a set of heavily-carpeted steps leading down. Making sure that the trapdoor will close behind me, I head on down, as it clicks shut above my head.
Several steps later, I find myself running down a long hall, decorated by huge covers of the best works. Reaching the tightly sealed set of steel doors, just in front of a huge cat face, I kneel down, and insert my chin into the rest, so the laser can look into my green eyes.
A copy of my iris flashes up on a monitor, as thin, red lines run over it in a criss-cross pattern. After what seems like an eternity, a green LED light flashes on, and the doors slide open.
"Welcome, Agent Hollywood." The disembodied, female voice says, as I get to my feet and head on through to the meeting hall. It's very fancy, with a long, mahogany table right in the centre, and our I.D photos hanging on the wall. Several other agents, all sitting at the long table, turn to watch me take my seat.
"You're late." The suave figure, seated at the head of the table says, as my bare face goes very red. Agent Gilray has always been our best leader, after Agent Phillips defected to join the enemy, the Directioners. He oozes that charm and charisma that we all look up to, plus has tonnes of experience in the matter. I try to keep up my status as Agent, after I was awarded it for my fallen angels, bullets and paranormal creatures-themed movella. I can't help screwing up occasionally though.
"Sorry, Agent Gilray. I have further information though, on the matter of Operation Fanfic." I hastily apologise, getting my laptop out and powering it up.
"Now, let us continue with the mission briefing."