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“Show me what?” Maple crossed her arms, leaned back and looked up at Salvatore. 

Gosh, he was so handsome, bathed in the morning light. The green of his eyes intensified and soft wind made rebel curls bounce off his forehead.

“What did you eat this morning?” he asked.

For a terrible instant, Maple thought he was asking because of her breath.  She hadn’t eaten since last night. Who had time to eat when their show was one scandal away from cancellation?

“I had an omelette, why?”

“What do you usually have for breakfast?”

“An omelette,” she answered even though she’d never touch eggs before noon. Her regular breakfast, when she remembered to eat one, was warm coffee poured over cereals.

Salvatore nodded to himself and shut his eyes. She seized the opportunity to study his face without makeup or the blinding light of projectors in the way. He was in the sweet morning light without any artifices. The skin on his face that wasn’t covered with thick dark hair was smooth and his bushy eyebrows were naturally structured, like masterpieces in the garden of Versailles. His lips were criminally luscious and shaped for the perfect embrace. He had the face of a superstar.

He opened his eyes again, catching her staring. She blushed, but he was kind enough not react to her heavy gaze. 

“Now,” he said, “I’ll ask you again. What did you eat this morning?”

“I…”

Her eyes widened. She brought her fingers to her lips. Just like earlier, she’d been robbed of her ability to lie. She couldn’t even seem to conjure the same lie she’d told him seconds ago.

“I…” She didn’t want to answer his question with the truth, but it was the only thing on her mind. “I didn’t have breakfast.”

He saw that she was about to launch into a thousand queries and  held up his finger. “Now, tell me what you usually have for breakfast.”

She couldn’t. Her mind wouldn’t let her answer the question if it wasn’t the truth. The truth, that she usually ate cereals with coffee, was not something she wanted to admit to a superstar with perfect skin, teeth, and presumably a perfect diet. Maple had seen Salavatore’s abs from up close and wondered, like millions of other desperately horny women, if they’d feel like polished wood against her cheeks.

“I don’t want to tell you that.”

That got a chuckle out of him. “I didn’t have to block that one.”

Maple stared at him. He didn’t make sense. “What are you talking about?”

“Earlier in the car, you asked me some questions. I’d like to answer them now.”

She hadn’t forgotten. She’d tried to put them aside, welcoming the distraction provided by the wig’s disappearance. But Salvatore was right, she needed to know whatever was going on with him.

He cleared his throat. “The reason you can’t lie around me is because I can… sort of… feel when humans lie to me.”

“Wait, what do you mean—” She cut herself off because it’d just registered. She looked up at him. “You said ‘humans.’”

He nodded. “I thought you’d have it figured out by now.”

“Figured out wh…” Her eyes widened.

Salvatore Suarez was a secret alien superstar? How was that possible? And how hadn’t she known? How was that possible? Sexy aliens were her bread and butter!

“Since when?” she asked incredulously, and knew immediately it’d been the wrong thing to say. 

Salvatore,  graceful as ever, grinned. “Since when have I been an alien?”

She shook her head, understanding at once why she hadn’t suspected anything earlier. It was because of him.  She couldn’t think clearly whenever he was around her. He blurred all her common sense and logic. When he grinned at her like that, Maple could barely remember how to formulate sentences.

“Sorry, that was a dumb question,” she managed.

He stepped forward, closing some of the space between them. “It’s not. I get it, that's a lot to take in.”

It was. Maple had never met a real alien before. She’d talked to the anonymous alien consultant, the one hired by Bōøbol, but only over the phone. She’d been working with Salvatore for years. All this time, he was just there, hiding in plain sight.

“Who else knows?”

He plunged his eyes into hers. “Nobody.”

Flustered, she asked, “Why now?” When he frowned, she added, “Why are you telling me now? What changed?” 

He took his phone out and played a video. It was colourless and grainy, but even with the mediocre quality, Maple recognized the woman on the screen. It was her. The footage was dated from yesterday, just before the light had fallen off.

Maple was looking at the missing surveillance footage she’d requested from security. The one someone had taken from her desk.

“How do you have this? Did you steal the envelope on my desk?”

Salvatore seemed genuinely puzzled when he said, “What envelope?  I know the security guards, they owed me one.” 

She wasn’t sure she believed him but why would he steal the video just to show it to her? Maybe there were two copies of the footage out there. One was playing in front of her, and the other one was probably in the hands of the saboteur.

He continued playing the video. Maple recognized herself, broom in hand, as she searched for non-existent raccoons. There wasn’t any sound, but Past Maple snapped her head up a second before the klieg light fell on her.

Present Maple flinched because she still remembered how she’d felt thinking she was about to die. She’d been so alone and afraid.

As if sensing her distress, Salvatore leaned closer. His sleeves were up, and his forearm brushed against her knuckles. The warmth of his skin contrasted with the cold of hers.  She shivered.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. She’d just noticed another person in the video. In the right-up corner, there was a man in the shadows. Only half of his body was visible. His two arms were raised, flexing with effort as veins bulged in his thick arms.

Maple watched the man take a step forward and enter the frame. A familiar face appeared. She held her breath and moved away from Salvatore. “You saved me?”

The video didn’t lie. Past Savlatore had appeared right before the light had crashed on Maple. It all made sense now. Lights didn’t float on their own.

“How?” she asked.

“Alien powers. When humans lie to me, I can feel and block it. It requires some effort, but it’s quite minimal. Moving large objects like a stage light is a different skill I have. It requires more energy.”

“I requested a copy of this footage too. Someone stole it. They could expose your secret.”

He tensed. “That’s why I don’t like to use my powers.  Do you have any idea who could have the video now?”

She shook her head and bit her lip to avoid asking him why he’d decided to use his powers to save her if the risks were so important to him.

Instead, she asked, “Why are you showing me this?”

 “I don’t think it’s a coincidence the light fell on you.”

“I thought that was already agreed upon? Someone is sabotaging the show. This was their doing.”

“Yes,” Salvatore said with an edge to his voice. “I also don’t believe it was a coincidence the light fell on you.”

She froze. “Wait… what?”

“Maple, I think someone is trying to kill you.”