"Will we reach there in time?" Satan asked.

He extinguished his cigarette on the metal exterior of the patrol pump—right over the sign that warned against smoking near the flammable liquid.

It wasn't an action any sane person would replicate, but Lucifer followed along.

The dying embers falling to the ground with the ash seemed to raise Kara's heartbeat.

If she were to die, she preferred a beheading. Getting caught in an explosion was famously not painless.

"If we take the A24, we should be there within three hours," Lucifer said, reading a map on the store clerk's phone.

Satan turned to Kara. "You won't get to go to the loo for three hours. You should have used your time wisely instead of calling the police."

Kara shivered.

Lucifer—tying the buttons of his shirt, which previously belonged to Kara's boyfriend—puffed out a cloud of smoke.

"Do we have tickets though?"

Satan stopped twirling his cane. "What tickets?"

In the silence, Kara imagined the noise of crickets. They weren't there. It wasn't summer, so they couldn't be there. She heard it vividly, nonetheless.

"We need tickets to watch the film, you know that, right?"

Satan looked perplexed. "Can't we just kill them all and have the theater for ourselves?"

"Are you stupid?"

Lucifer's frustration seemed to reflect Kara's inner turmoil.

"Who will play the film if we kill them all?"

'That's your problem?'

Disappointment was a tame word for the emotions Kara felt.

For a moment, she had allowed herself to believe Lucifer wasn't as much of a lunatic as his friend.

She felt dumber than when she was kidnapped.

"Maybe we can get into the main venue?" Lucifer muttered in a pensive tone. "A lot of celebrities will be there, and we'll need invitations for it…"

"You worry too much, my friend," Satan jumped into his seat. "We can just ask Gene for help. Surely, he won't deny us."

Lucifer stroked his chin. "We could make it work."

Having stocked up on food and drinks, the three drove onto the road, resuming their journey to Berlin.

For some reason, Lucifer and Satan had collected a few too many cigarette packets. On top of that, they had found it appropriate to throw them all in the backseat.

The food and all the stolen goods were taking up more space than Kara and her boyfriend did when they were messing around.

She wondered how they were going to smoke all of that.

Once they had merged with the scarce traffic of the A24, the scenery passed by quickly.

There were no more verdant trees and dark roads.

The motorway stretched before them—uninterrupted and twinkling with headlights.

"Alright, your sorry face is ruining my mood," Satan said to Kara.

He opened the door against the wind pressure before Lucifer could hit the brakes.

"What are you doing?" Lucifer yelled.

Satan leaned out of the car, feeling the wind on his face.

"This is how you live, girl," he screamed, his cheeks flapping in the wind. "Come on, Lucifer, you too."

"Who'll drive, then?"

"Kara will, won't you, dear?"

She looked around. "What—how?"

Lucifer turned to her. "Will you?"

"No? How could I—"

Before she could finish, Lucifer had opened his door and was leaning out of it.

"What a nice wind," he said, steering the wheel with little effort. "Take the wheel, girl."

"But—"

"Take it!" shouted Satan. "Or you're dead! How long will you freeload? Pull your weight."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Honestly, she would have jumped out of the car if the speed it was going at weren't alarming.

Kara quickly crawled into the driver's seat, sandwiched between Lucifer and the handbrake.

"Alright, I'm taking my foot off."

"Okay," she answered, anxious. "You can let go."

And that's exactly what Lucifer did, before climbing onto the door.

The control of the car was now fully in Kara's hands.

"What now?" She glanced at Lucifer. "Should I slow down?"

But Lucifer wasn't there.

"No, keep speeding."

He was on the roof.

"Yeah, overtake every loser here."

Satan, too, had climbed on top of the car.

Kara couldn't believe it. It felt like it was a dream. There was no way there were men stupid enough to do something like that, and the pair wasn't even drunk.

'Do cigarettes make you drunk?'

That didn't sound right.

On the roof of the car, Lucifer and Satan were hysterically laughing, singing, and dancing.

Half a dozen lit cigarettes were hanging from their lips. They were breathing less and smoking more.

Every passing car, every passenger, looked at them with terrified eyes, some frantically dialing the police.

But no one could interrupt the two, not even Kara, who had to hand them cigarette packs every ten minutes.

It surprised even the kidnapped girl how quickly she got used to this lunacy.

The smoke from the lit cigarettes seemed to linger in their wake.

***

The next day, Averie found himself on a red carpet in the middle of Potsdamer Platz.

He wasn't alone. Tens of celebrities—most he knew, a few he didn't—were present.

Out of them all, very few were less known than himself.

Naturally, the photographers were busy taking pictures of the more famous figures. Superstars, they called them.

'What a joke.'

He walked arm in arm with Josephine Petite. Following the pair were Benoit Durand and Margaux Delcour.

The three attracted quite a lot of attention, which naturally brought Director Groux's and Averie's presence into question.

Some wondered who the latter was, while those who recognized him felt confused.

'Never have I felt so incensed,' thought Josephine. 'How humiliating it feels to receive attention all of a sudden.'

She eyed Averie.

'Who are they to look at him with those eyes. The height of acting should not be ignored like this.'

She knew they weren't to blame, but it felt wrong.

'Do they not feel it?' she wondered. 'Can they not feel the gravity of his eyes?'

She thought less of them for their ignorance, but having seen The Lady in person, she knew it wouldn't last long.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.