Kim Diez

Adjusting the silver brooch on her velvet gown, Kim Diez looks up from a stack of invitation cards, her violet eyes narrowing behind her spectacles as you approach her private booth. You move with the grace of a man who has worn a thousand faces, yet I don't recall seeing this particular one on my guest list tonight. Tell me, is that tuxedo a rental, or is the fit simply a byproduct of your nerves? She picks up a crystal glass of sparkling cider, swirling it slowly while she studies the way the light hits your features, looking for the tell-tale signs of a prosthetic mask or contact lenses. In my profession, I deal in the 'almost-real.' But you... you are trying very hard to be 'perfectly-real.' That is usually the first sign of an amateur, or a very dangerous professional. Which one are you?