Chapter 32

A date? She was asking me? I locked gazes with her for a minute before I answered, "Of course." With that, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her out the door.

Juliana ran out of the room and yelled at me, "What drug did you use?!"

I laughed and said, "It's a trade secret." Juliana pouted, but she didn't pry any further. She even called after us and apologized for threatening to call the police. I laughed that one off too. After all, what could the police do to me? I basically gave them sixty-five percent of their funding through various outlets.

"Shouldn't I change into something more decent?" Angela asked.

I replied, "Naw! You're fine just the way you are!" She blushed and took my word for it. When we reached the car, I opened the door to the passenger seat and Anglea got in. The sun was still high in the sky, so I had plenty of time. I got into the driver's seat and turned on autopilot.

Jasmine resumed what she was saying when I got out, "You have reached the destination: 'Angela is my girlfriend. G-R-I-L-F-R-I-E--"

"STOP!!!" I shouted. Like a deflated balloon, my heart sank. FUCK!!!!!!! FUCK! FUCK! I slowly tilted my head to the side to see Angela looking right at me. I jerked my head straight back to face the front. "Look, Angela..."

"I don't mind..."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was thinking of proposing under the sta--" I looked back at her, "What?"

Her whole face went red before she turned her head to face her window. She said, "I don't mind us being a...couple."

I was confused, "Why?"

She suddenly sounded annoyed, "Micheal, this is the part where you're supposed to accept me and take me out somewhere! You can't embarrass me by saying why I like you! I just do..." I couldn't resist her any longer. I pulled her close to me and placed my lips on hers. Her eyes widened but then calmed. Everything around us was peaceful and idyllic. We both froze in position and embraced the moment. The comfort. The love.

"How ROMANTIC!!!" A voice squealed outside the car. It was Juliana. She stood mere inches outside Angela's window and snapped a picture of the moment. I slapped my fucking head. Angela's face blushed bright red. She fiddled with her hands and tried to hide her face.

"Jasmine, get us the hell away from here." Jasmine ignited the engine and raced out. Juliana was left with a mouthful of smoke and rubber.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Vincent POV:

The three of us made it to the same building that we stood before on the first day we came here. The building looked the same, and the guard stood in the same place although he was greeting a lot more participants this time around. I looked around and noticed that there were quite a few people lined up outside in order to enter the building. I doubted that all of them would fit, but three of us followed suit.

As we stood in the line, I took in the many different types of players. There some who looked worse than us; they were probably only here to make the twenty thousand before dropping off. There were some that came in solos, or duos, or trios. Only a couple came in fours. The contrast between participants was amazing to look at. The rich, noble, and skilled players were huddled together on one side of the line, and the poor players- both physically and wealth-wise- were drifting around on the other side. The affluent group taunted and jeered at the poor, but they did not lift a finger or raise a voice. They seemed like they were used to it. Even the lower members of the inner sector. The children of maids, supermarket employees, and janitors were well aware of their social standings. Many of them made fists so tight that their hands went white; they were the ones that would try their best to succeed in the games. I mentally noted all of them in my mind. We wouldn't want to face them at any point during the competition.

The line started to move at a snail's pace. There was only one guard manning all of the participants; I was surprised that no one broke order yet. Out of nowhere, a voice behind me demanded, "Kneel down and lick my shoe." I thought he was talking to someone else, so I ignored the voice and kept observing my surroundings. "Oi! I'm talking to you, you sewer rat!" He pushed my shoulder so that I stumbled forward.

I looked back at him and said, "There are plenty of sewer rats here. Maybe you should have specified." The boy was around my age. Maybe a year older. He had dull red hair, bright yellow eyes. Sharp nose, thin eyebrows, really red lips, and a couple of freckles right below his eyes on his high cheekbones. He had a sturdy but tall and lean build. His cologne reeked of arrogance, and his clothes showed off a bright style of being rich. A bright red shirt, a leather jacket to go over it, faded blue pants that had purposeful tears near his knees, and multiple gold chains and rings. Now, I wonder what he wanted with me?

"Shut up!" He snapped, "Now lick my shoe."

George interrupted, "Do you have a fetish or something? I don't remember licking people's shoes as being a common theme in the past few years." Girls from the rich side giggled. This aggravated him even further.

He pushed George away and stuck his finger on my chest. "Don't fuck with me! Get down, NOW!" he roared.

I looked at George and Bill who were looking at the perpetrator with ferocious glares. George knew the reality of the situation, so he said, "Vincent, I hate to say it, but I think you have to." I looked at him with a knowing expression.

The asshole yelled at me again, "I don't have all day you piece of shit!" He then tried to provoke me even further by poking my chest repeatedly. My eyes focused on his finger going back and forth. Back and forth. Poking my chest.

*Crack* "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

The kid's finger was bent at a ninety-degree angle backward. The innocent giggles turned into shrieks of horror as the second joint on his index finger ripped through the thin flesh and revealed a jagged bone. Blood oozed out like water in a broken dam. Some of the blood splattered on the right side of my face. It felt... warm...comforting as it dripped down coating the lower half of the neck as well. People gathered around the scene. The bastard was on his back on the ground crying. I loomed over him and stared him down with penetrating eyes. He looked up at me with a pleading expression; his face was converted from arrogance to terror. His golden eyes were diminished to a dull yellow, weeping for tears. I furrowed my eyebrows slightly. I kicked in the chest and calmly said, "Fuck you."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Flin POV:

The aggressor poked Vincent. He went at it until Vincent grabbed his index finger and snapped it backward. Blood spurted on Vincent's face. The other kid fell back bawling.

I like him.

He was a demon. The blood on his face paired with his emerald eyes that smoldered in the high sun. An embodiment of a demon.