Thanks to 'dave_brown' for the Golden Tickets. Bonus chapter coming up.
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Backstage, the cool glow of a dozen high-definition security monitors illuminated the faces of the two men who had organised and controlled many of the events in Veyra for decades. The room was silent, save for the hum of the cooling fans and the rhythmic 'tap-tap-tap' of a silver-headed cane against the floor.
"The second part is coming to an end, Kennedy," Mark Orton said, his eyes darting between the monitors. He was a small man, and currently, he looked as though he were shrinking further into his oversized leather chair. "We should go up now. If we catch him before the third round, we can frame it as a gesture of respect. If we wait, it looks like a snub."
