Riven's eyes stared boredomly at the burning wood, his hand in one place for over fifteen minutes. His steak was now way too brown, burnt to a crisp. But he didn't seem to have noticed yet, nor did it seem like his brain was half awake.
"Huh, dude," Cael called out to him while also grilling. "Your steak's getting burnt."
"I know," Riven said, rather subconsciously. "I prefer it that way."
"No, really, it's on fire."
Riven looked down and saw his meat, no, a small compounded fire where his steak used to be. In reflex, he yelled, then threw it towards Cael. Cael also yelled and swept it off aggressively with his hand. It landed on the sand.
"Dude!" Cael frowned at Riven, blowing on his hand. "What the actual fuck was that?!"
"I don't know man. We've been waiting here for over thirty minutes. It's fucking cold out here." Riven groaned, changing the topic. "Is he putting on makeup or something?"
"Why are you in a hurry?" Cael picked up a water bottle beside his chair and took a slow gulp from it. "Let me guess. Your girlfriend's waiting?"
"Shut up, Cael."
Immediately, he said that, a Mercedes-Benz drove towards them, its white car lights flickering like it was intended to annoy the two boys. The car veered to a stop right in front of their camp, scooping dust in their way.
"What the hell—"
Zael walked out of the car driver's seat, tossing his keys around his fingers. He had a smile on his face. The same one he always wore when he was looking for trouble— or when someone managed to move him to a point of oppression.
"It's about to get interesting for us, boys." He said even before taking his seat.
"You just arrived back in the city, and you're already causing war?" Cael said. Apparently, he knew what his brother had been up to, and he wasn't about to play along with his stupidity. "There's a reason why you and Dante have always had to come to an agreement. Starting a fight with him would put Silvic High in danger."
"I gave Dante an option. And he decided to write another for himself." Zael pulled out a cigarette from his overcoat, lit one and took a long drag. "If he attacks Silvic High, he'd be the one putting himself in danger." He said, his eyes searching around for a second or two. "Where's Sera?"
"I should ask you that." Riven's eyes lowered at him. "Is she not your girlfriend?"
Seraphine Reese held two titles of importance. The queen of Silvic High and also the girlfriend of Zael. The last was the one everyone mostly spoke about. It had happened when Zael himself chose her to become the queen.
At first, everyone had thought it was a strange thing to do, because no one had actually seen Seraphine fight before. And then, when the rumour spread that she was the king's girlfriend, with a whisk of confirmation alongside— the lines began to come together.
"She's been barely present in school," Cael explained. "I think she's doing that thing again where she has a problem and locks herself shut from the rest of us." His eyes met Zael's. "Call her, I guess?"
If anything, Cael knew how strong the chemistry was between those two. Or maybe it was Zael trying to force himself on her. Unlike Sera, he was too obvious with his feelings and would do anything if it meant doing it for her.
Which probably included discontinuing the meeting because of her, striding back into his car and driving miles to her place. At least, that was what Cael had predicted his brother's reaction would be. But Zael twisted his expectation.
"There's no need for that. She doesn't have to be here anyway." Zael said and took another drag, earning Cael and Riven's silence. "By the way Cael, I heard the whole thing with Dante and his gang already started with someone in our school. What was his name again..."
Zael placed a palm on his forehead, teeth grinding as he tried to remember.
"Ren Mora." He said eventually. "Now I remember."
"Ren?" Riven asked, a smile on his face. Then he turned to face Cael. "Dude, isn't that your rival? The one who's competing with you for Aria—"
"I think you're mistaken, Zael," Cael said, cutting Riven off his words before he could complete them. "You remember Ren Mora, don't you? The cripple. There's no way someone that weak would get Dante angry."
"Well, that's miscalculated." Zael folded an arm, slightly sucking in cold air. "What I heard was that he beat up the ass of Dante's brother." He explained. "I assume Dante's brother is also a high tier, right? How did a cripple beat him up then?"
"That doesn't matter. What matters is how you're gonna deal with this—"
"No, it does matter." Zael cut in. Apparently, no one was giving Riven a chance to speak. "A low tier can always try to get ripped. But real judgment comes from how abilities are used. Even if Ren Mora had years of training, there's no way he'd be able to stand his own against a high-tier. Then, that must mean..."
"Mean what?" Cael asked.
"Interesting. Really interesting." Zael smiled, the kind of smile that showed how much interesting he thought his life was becoming. "Turns out Ren Mora was never a cripple after all."
******
(Author's POV)
"Here we go."
WHACK! I watched the punch meter numbers count the moment I landed a punch on it, muttering a little prayer alongside. The numbers scaled up. 100. 200. It started to slow down, the same way it always did, trying to show me how weak I still was.
294.
"Wait, 294?" I couldn't help the smile that came to my face.
It wasn't 300, but it was something encouraging. After all, my previous highest scores had been within the threshold of 213. And that sudden 294 wasn't even my best shot. Which meant that I could actually hit a 300 if I put more force into it.
My hands reached into my pocket without hesitation, but they met emptiness instead. The heck? I'd converted ten bucks into cents and yet, I was all out?
"Still struggling with 300 points?" Aria walked in, holding up another juice carton and a mocking smile.
"You don't know the half of it." My hands gripped the machine, my eyes staring at the screen like it was a sworn enemy I had to defeat. "I'm just holding back."
"Sure." She said and slurped loudly on her drink. "I heard something interesting though, that Dante came after you." She added. "That's crazy, I don't think he knows that I'm the one who beat up his brother."
There was definitely an appalled look on my face when I turned to her. "Exactly. Why do I have to bear your brunt?"
"Dante decided it, I guess?" She said, barely taking the straw out of her mouth. Of course, it was easy for her to say that.
"Bitch." I said, almost regretting my statement a second after. "Of course. Why should you be bothered? Against you, that gang boss is really not much of a threat anyway. And because of you, because I'm the weaker one, they'd keep coming after me until they've had their fill. Is that what you want?"
Aria didn't look like she was listening to me. While she slurped on her drink, her eyes kept on me, blankly. And when she took another drag and nothing came out, that was when her brain seemed to have woken up.
She tossed the carton towards a nearby trash can, but she missed, and it dropped to the floor.
"Are you hungry?" She asked, as if everything I'd just said was of no importance. "I'm hungry."
I wanted to torture her in the highest way possible. Maybe grab her and throw her out the window or just shove my shoe into her teeth. But luckily for her, I was held back when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Pulling it out, Rowan's number displayed on the screen. Oh right. After that encounter with Sancho, he'd insisted that he collected my number, and had spent almost a week calling me just to apologise for all his wrongdoings.
Respectfully, I didn't want to admit anything. Because honestly, it was really not a big deal. But instead, bro had me doing things that I wouldn't do just to prove to him that we were all good. He even went as far as having lunch with me on a Wednesday afternoon.
Anyway, why is he calling now?
I slid the receive button upward and placed it to my ear. And in all my sheer attempt to sound calm, my tone still came off as aggressive.
"Hello."
"Hello, son of bitch."
Yeah, definitely not Rowan.
"Who in the world is this?" I asked, feigning curiosity.
"That's disappointing, did you forget me that easily?" The person said. And somehow, I recognised his voice. Calm. Condescending. The kind that sent ripples through my skin.
It couldn't be—
"Sancho." Aria frowned the moment I called his name. "What the fuck are you up to. Why do you have Rowan's phone?"
"Why don't you make a guess?" Sancho said with a chuckle. "Did you think I was just gonna let you go after what happened last time?"
"And how's that any of my fault?" I asked him, my other hand now wrapping into a solid fist. "Was I supposed to let you kill me?"
Sancho's laugh got louder. I recognised the laugh from a movie I watched recently. The exact laugh of a stupid protagonist who thought he knew better. Apparently, his brain was also made of venom.
"Thirty minutes Ren." He said. No response to my question. "I'll give your friend one last chance to live. Come to the abandoned warehouse on Hereford's Block. If you make it here early, I'll let your friend go."
"He's not my friend," I said, trying to correct his words amid all the threats. And with that, I ended the call with him.
Aria's frown had turned to a completely questioning look. "So, you're just gonna let him die?"
"The heck? No. I only specified that he's not my friend." Then, a smile. "I never said I wasn't in the mood to kick that bastard's ass today."