Trouble Maker

123 years later...

“Do you always wear tights like that?”

Gemma glanced through the long brown hair that covered her face. She was enjoying a cold beer after a tiring performance a few minutes ago. Can’t people just leave her alone for a while?

Gemma chose not to answer the question. But what she did was make those people even more provoked.

“I’ve heard rumors that you’re an unapproachable woman. But what do you mean by wearing an outfit like this, which makes all the guys think you’re ‘open’ to us?”

Gemma could feel the grin of the man that talking to her. She looked up, determined to get a better look at the snob.

Gemma pouted. A typical rich man who gets his wealth from the inheritance of his parents. Expensive shirts with designer suits. His black hair, neatly slicked back, gleamed like wet asphalt. A clean face is a sign that he is diligent in taking care of his body. Gemma had to ask where this man did his facial treatment because, as a singer, Gemma also needs smooth skin like that. Gemma shook her head quickly to get rid of the thought. Such treatment, of course, is expensive. Gemma didn’t have that much money.

The two large bodyguards standing behind him were certainly not mere decorations. It had been a long time since Gemma had fought a battle with such muscular people. It must be interesting.

Gemma was chuckling to herself, imagining what she was about to do, when the bartender came up to her and took her hand.

“Gemma.”

Gemma turned, glaring at the bartender in disgust.

“What?” she asked fiercely.

“Don’t....”

The bartender shook his head slowly, his voice weak. He tried to stop Gemma, but he knew his efforts were futile, even before seeing the results.

Gemma brushed off the bartender’s hand. She then took a deep breath and exhaled.

“Okay...” Gemma said calmly. The bartender smiled with a surprised face. Surprised that his little effort had paid off.

“I will answer your question.” Gemma turned to the rich man with his bodyguards.

Gemma tossed her hair back and tried to be as friendly as she could be. If Maya saw her now, she must be very proud. Gemma can be graceful like a woman should be.

“I love wearing clothes like this—”

She pointed to her entire self, who was now wearing a tight snake pattern sleeveless shirt, black leather trousers that were also tight, and black high heels that made her short body look slender.

“So that I can easily beat up people like you in a fight.”

Gemma said it loud and proud. She glanced at the bartender and hoped for a thumbs up. But instead, the bartender slapped himself on the forehead.

The music playing in the nightclub was not so loud that the people sitting along the bar and those around them turned their heads.

Ugh... Why is Gemma always became the center of attention every time she opens her mouth?

The answer Gemma gave earlier was honest. Maya asks her to look good when Gemma appears on stage. She can’t wear jeans and t-shirts like in her daily life. Clothes like this are what give her ease of movement and look stylish.

“You challenge me?”

The Rich Man’s tone rose. Gemma raised an eyebrow.

“No. I’m not challenging you. You asked me why I enjoyed dressing like this. Right?”

That man glared, and it made Gemma’s astonishment. She was not provoking anger. If she intended to provoke a commotion, then the answer would not be like before.

“Bring her to my room. I have to teach her mouth some manners,” that man told his guards. A bald guard dressed in all black came up to Gemma and grabbed her wrist.

Gemma looked at the bodyguard’s hand, then looked up, looking into the bodyguard’s sunglasses-covered eyes.

“Let go of me,” Gemma ordered. Her voice was calm but terrible.

The music has now stopped. No more people swaying on the dance floor. The show has moved to the front of the bar, with Gemma as the main character.

The bodyguard smirked, as did his master.

“Why? Are you scared?”

That man and his bodyguard laughed. Very sickening. No one can laugh at Gemma so casually. Gemma spat on the man’s shoes, which were as shiny as his hair.

The man was furious; he slapped Gemma and now screamed.

“How dare you do that!! Bitch!! No one is going to help you here!! Beg and kneel if you want me to let you go!”

Kneel? Has this guy gone mad to have Gemma kneel? Don’t they know who Gemma is, and what kind of reputation has spread among nightlife lovers about her?

“You....” Gemma tilted her head slowly, her eyes flashing innocence for a moment. “You’re a new guy in this nightlife, aren’t you?”

Before that man had time to change his expression, Gemma quickly twisted the guard’s hand that was gripping her and freed herself. The next second, she leaped up, using the chair as a foothold, and plopped her knees into the guard’s face. The bodyguard groaned in pain, holding his nose, which had been confirmed to be broken.

It didn’t stop there. Gemma spun around on top of the injured guard, landed gracefully behind him, and swiftly kicked the bodyguard’s leg to his knees. Gemma threw a sidekick and sent the bodyguard’s head hitting the bar counter. The guard fell, and it was all in less than a minute.

“You never asked your bodyguards if they could see here? It’s a dark place. Why do you have to wear sunglasses?”

Gemma was standing next to the rich man, who was so shocked to see her that he fell and bumped into his other bodyguards.

Gemma smiled haughtily as they hurried off without another fight. Gemma bowed here and there, welcoming the applause of the visitors, who were amazed by her abilities. At least this time Gemma broke nothing.

“Gemma...”

It was her manager’s voice. What a coincidence.

Gemma turned and was about to talk excitedly, but she stopped when she saw Maya’s face.

Looks like Gemma is making trouble again.

*