Screeech. A hidden door, tucked neatly behind the bar on east avenue, slid open. All eyes turned on the girl standing stiffly at the entrance.

“Finally, Ten! What did you get us this time?”

Ten is the newest member of the club. Though initially skeptical of her naked, spiritless eyes and rather out-dated mask – the Fox series went out of season last year – the girls quickly accepted her once they realized what a convenient job she has. When she’d pulled out not one, but the whole collection of INK & BLOOD – only the newest luxury-edition, advertised to be padded and breathable, masks so popular even those snooty socialites had trouble stocking up on – Six had nearly fainted. Then proceeded to press a very loud, very red lipsticked kiss on Ten’s cheeks.

“Skies above, Ten-jie, you have all that and you still wear that decrepit mask of yours? Does it have sentimental value or something? Did your runaway lover give it to you as your engagement gift?”

Six now chattered nonstop, kneeling before Ten’s suitcase. It opened under Six’s eager fingers, revealing tidy compartments full of HP’s newest products, the features of each mask so lifelike they look as though they had just been jostling each other for space in the crowded suitcase. She brushed a trembling finger over the transparent padding encasing the nearest mask, laced through with jade and onyx tones, with almost reverence on her face.

A sudden soft hand curled around Ten’s arm, and she started. Turning, Ten found Thirteen fawning over her, the practiced tone of her squeals and her tight grip a touch discomfiting. “Oh, darling, this is splendid! How did you even manage to get your hands on all those? Was it your employee discount? Ten-jie, I love you so much–” She was cut off by a loud crash when Ten, squirming under Thirteen's clawed fingers, knocked over a glass of champagne that would have doused her entire suitcase if not for Six's quick reflexes.

“That’s enough.” Seven hissed. Thirteen immediately backed off, and Seven’s cold eyes fixed on Ten, “How much is this?” She tapped impatiently on a package hastily labeled “MEDUSA.”

Ten noticed that her pupils are slits. Logic told her they’re just contacts, yet she still couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably. And immediately froze when Seven’s eyes glowed yellow in the dark.

“Two hundred.” Ten responded.

“Deal.”