RISING PHOENIX ACT SELECT

CHAPTER 22: CATALYST

Ring, ring!
Ring -

Marco swiftly turned off the alarm that he was all too familiar with. It had been two days since he informed the Dexterous Detectives about their mission - and it was now just one hour before prom. Marco took the cheap store-bought mask his mom bought earlier to follow the prom’s theme, which was masquerade. He then pulled out the black suit in his wardrobe and hurriedly dressed for the occasion, making sure to keep Glenn’s earpieces in his pocket. After combing his hair and polishing his looks further, Marco got in the car with his mom and began to head to the venue. The batch before Marco’s went all out, reserving the Tiago Rodriguez Ballroom - a venue reserved for the greatest and most opulent of celebrations. As such, Marco was excited to see it in person.

As he got closer and closer to his destination, Marco contemplated his journey so far. How he, along with his teammates, had gone through so much uncertainty and turmoil - all coming down to this one night. He looked out the car window the whole time as the finality of it all began to dawn on him. A few minutes before he arrived however, his thinking spree was cut short when his mom decided to remind him of something.
“Son, if there’s alcohol over there, don’t drink it, OK? You’re not yet 18,” she told him, which annoyed Marco since he recalled telling her there wasn’t any a few days ago.
“Mama, I already told you they’re not serving alcohol! Did you even read the consent form?!” Marco fired back.

“Hey, don’t get shouty with me! I just want to make sure you don’t get yourself into trouble!” Marco’s mom replied.
“What, you don’t trust me not to?”
“No!” Marco’s mom told him, “In fact, I don’t!”
Hearing this from his own mother took Marco aback.
“You don’t trust your own son?!”
“You know what you did! I can’t trust you after that…not for a long time…!”
“You know, I did that for the right reasons! Reasons you wouldn’t understand!”
“What reasons?! That’s nonsense!” Marco’s mom told him before sighing in disappointment. At that moment, they pulled up to the entrance of the Tiago Rodriguez ballroom.
“Papa wouldn’t be happy with you,” Marco’s mom muttered under her breath. Marco heard it and desperately wanted to say something, but he barely managed to hold back. They stayed silent until Marco was about to be dropped off.

“Have fun…” Marco’s mom told him unenthusiastically. Marco quickly got out of the car and slammed the door, refusing to acknowledge his mom, who drove off after seeing Marco make it to the stairs of the venue. Marco stopped for a moment to put on his masquerade mask, which was blue with some patterning and feathers on the rim. The entrance was decorated with red and black balloon towers and streamers - the balloons had prints of various masquerade masks on them, which seemed to be peeling off already. He also saw some of his batchmates and upper-years talking outside, all wearing masks of various colors and shapes. Walking past them, he followed the red carpet set on the stairs and made it inside.

When he got in, Marco was mesmerized at the sight before him. He was in a large hallway with a ceiling that was at least a few storeys tall, making him feel miniscule in comparison. Everything from the walls to the pillars to the ceiling were made of stone and marble and carved with the most intricate and beautiful patterns. Large wooden doors populated the walls, all of which led to smaller rooms compared to the ballroom, whose entrance lay at the end of the hallway.

Two large chandeliers lit up the whole hallway and gave a feeling of warmth to the whole room - along with a sense of grandiosity. Every element of the building’s architecture was something to marvel at. Taking his attention off the beauty of the interior, Marco looked at what the upper-years set up and saw a mask-themed photoshoot site with a long line, a decently-sized group of parents talking to each other, and a registration booth for the prom attendees near the entrance.

Marco quickly made his way to the registration booth and looked for his name on the attendance sheets. In the corner of his eye, he saw someone watching him do so, which put him on edge. He looked over at Prairie’s block and looked for where her name would be and saw Ramone’s name in its place instead, which gave him a sense of relief. He also noticed that it was already signed, so they were there already.
“Real quick, I need to note your name down too. Please state your name,” the girl looking after the registration booth told Marco.
“Madlangbayan,” he told her. She looked up at him, slightly unamused.
“...Marco Madlangbayan.”
After she noted down his name and gave him the go-ahead, he looked up and saw that the person watching him had vanished. He hesitantly brushed it off, leaving the registration booth and walking down the red carpet. He strutted down it with confidence and style, empowered by hope for his deal with Ramone. He put on his earpieces and adjusted his cuffs as well, which made some people turn their heads.

Before he made it to the ballroom entrance, Marco bumped into Brianna - she was wearing a silky red dress paired with an eye-catching black mask, forming a killer look.
“I believe I deserve some thanks,” Brianna told him, referring to her getting Ramone on the list.
“Oh wow…hey Bri!” he said, clearly surprised.
“Looks good, right?”
“Yeah…good for you,” Marco replied. The two of them stood silently for a while, which quickly turned the conversation awkward.
“Anyway, I’m gonna go. I’ll try to enjoy the prom,” Brianna said as she entered the ballroom.

Marco followed her inside and was hit with yet another beautiful sight. The ballroom was filled with the same intricate patterns and marvelous architecture as the hallway he came from, except it was much more spacious and lofty. There were two floors - the first was on ground level, which was filled with tables draped with white cloth, stacked with eating utensils and plates along with a candelabra centerpiece, and masquerade-themed decorations surrounding them. On his right was a medium-sized stage with a giant LED screen and an abundance of commercial-grade speakers flanking both sides of it - the screen displayed a themed title card for the prom. All the tables were arranged in a way to leave a big rectangular space in the middle for dancing.

On his left were a few doors at the back leading to some small service rooms, in front of which were three buffet tables for the dinner service. Right a few feet from him was the staircase to the second floor, which consisted of a small area that acted like a balcony that could oversee the ballroom from high above. Despite being barricaded off by a single red stanchion with a warning note taped on it, the second floor still seemed to have fully prepared tables. Marco was slightly confused by this, but figured it was supposed to be for the ASAs.

Hanging high above everything in the ballroom was a gargantuan glass chandelier that sparkled beautifully and lit up the whole room. As he looked around, he observed even more gorgeous masks that were sure to land high on a crowd vote. After fully taking in the scenery, Marco began making his way to his table, which was close to the entrance and fairly distant from the stage. On his way there, he was stopped by a familiar face.

“Hi Marco!” Darren’s familiar voice called out.
“Hey, Darren.”
“Come, I’ll show you your seat. Are you glad I reserved it for you?”
“Probably broke a rule of some kind, but yeah, I guess I am.”
“Over here…!” Darren said as he motioned to Marco.
After a few seconds of traversing through the chairs and people, Marco finally made it to his seat. He sat down and relaxed for a bit, mentally preparing himself for the deal with Ramone. After spotting some peanuts in a small dish on the table, Marco snacked on a few of them to stave off his nervousness.
“Marco, so…what do you - ”
“Sorry, not now,” Marco interrupted Darren as he looked around for Glenn, who he had still not seen, and for Ramone themself. Thankfully, Glenn came in right that moment.

“Hi…did I miss anything?” Glenn asked as he plopped his laptop on the table.
“No,” Marco reassured him. Glenn quickly opened his laptop under the tablecloth and kickstarted every necessary program for the mission.
“Have you seen Ramone?” Marco asked.
“I saw them coming into the ballroom, they’re probably going to their seat right now…” Glenn informed Marco, who spotted them walking around right as he said that. From the glimpse Marco caught, they were wearing a black suit and bowtie, a red shirt, and a mask that seemed to be their Rising Phoenix mask painted black and decorated and modified slightly. As all this was happening, Darren just sat there and watched the two of them talk about this.

“Yeah, that’s them alright,” Marco confirmed.
“I have the transfer site ready for control. Whenever you need me to spoof the transaction, just message me. And remember, the spoof will only stay that way for 2 minutes, so don’t linger!” Glenn told Marco as he was about to get up to approach Ramone.
“Thanks, wish me luck…” Marco told Glenn.
“Good luck!” Darren called out, which prompted a slightly confused look from Glenn.
Meanwhile, Marco waded through all of the people blocking him as he made his way to Ramone, who he was laser-focused on. After making it to the back, which didn’t have many people in it, he dashed towards Ramone as fast as he could, which let him finally catch up with them.
“Ramone…” Marco said slightly out of breath, “...I’m here.”
Ramone slowly turned around and confirmed that it was, indeed, Marco.
“It’s about time you showed up,” they remarked, “Come with me.”

Ramone walked to the back door that was the furthest away from all the people, who were beginning to go back to their seats as the prom was about to start. Marco followed closely behind before Ramone stopped. They twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Marco sensed that Ramone improvised this, as they had a sense of relief on their face when it opened. They quickly went inside and motioned at Marco to come in too, which he did.

As Ramone closed the door, Marco knew that the deal was about to begin.