Wild Boys

Chapter Twenty

The gray room was as bland as it could ever be, but that was just its purpose, wasn't it? When you're waiting to be called to a fight, you just sit and stay as minimally stimulated as much as possible. But that was boring. All current twenty members of Visco's World coped in their own way. Steven was happily playing cards at the back of the room with several guys and the last Iris heard, they were betting at what the higher ups got in store for them this time. Axel sat in his usual corner, eyes closed and arms crossed. She noticed his head sliding down a couple of times and marvelled at his ability to nap in this situation. Link, who was most notably anxious on their first underground fight, seemed to be doing fine this time. For the most part, at least. Mark was doing a good job distracting him with a lizard he found skulking in the room. Colin was doing push-ups on the floor and Mason contentedly sat on his back, pleased and refusing to take turns with Harris. Looked like the big guy's a fun ride.

"Nervous?" Lowell smiled at Iris, his hand already extended out to her. This one boy, at least, was impossibly bright as always.

"Your theory's been tested, I forgot to mention," Iris said. "Though I've only just tested it on a single person so maybe it's not too reliable."

All of a sudden a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes, an all-too familiar feral look. She'd seen it once. Lowell kept the smile on his face, poorly donning a sheep's clothing. "Is that so. That's nice. Who was it?"

In addition to that, Iris felt a searing gaze on her back and she quickly looked over her shoulder to find Caleb watching her with a downturned mouth on his face. At least this one didn't bother hiding his distaste. "Who tricked you into doing it?" He asked.

She had a feeling in her gut that saying Link's name was a bad idea, so she kept her mouth shut and wished she hadn't mentioned it in the first place. Iris was almost glad to see the screen flashed in front of them as it got everybody else's attention, like a quick snap of fingers to the face.

Caleb Blackburn. His name flashed across the screen. Wordlessly he stood up, and as he passed by he met Iris' eyes. She nodded at him. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes unfocusing, but he cleared his throat in a second and held out his hand toward her. Iris looked at it questioningly.

"For luck." He said, voice rough.

Iris grasped his large, calloused hand without a moment's hesitation. "Good luck, Caleb." She felt it squeeze her hand gently before he let go and walked out.

Lowell was giving her a quiet look. "You better leave some for me."

It seemed like they all needed any additional luck tonight. And the waiting game began again, and this time it came as no surprise when Iris was the last to go.

When her own name flashed, she stood up and calmly strode out of the room, remembering the boys' words of encouragement when they'd been called out earlier. She draped it over herself like a cloak as she stepped into the other room. Pushing her, guiding her to walk the rest of the way to the platform. Step by step, as the crowd waited in hushed silence. There it was again, the sole spotlight and the bloody red mat. Greeting her like an old friend.

Iris took a deep breath and slowly stepped out of the dark. Her foot touched the mat, and for a second she swore the crowd sucked in air. Then the rest of her body followed, her legs out in the light, her shoulders, the top of her head, until all of her stood under the clear sight of her invisible audience.

This was her third time under this very same spot yet it still felt like the first time. It was as if she carried the sun herself. The harsh light was warm on her skin, and the eyes of the crowd a heavy weight on her shoulder. Iris took another deep breath, and heard her father's voice in her head. It was as clear as if she's been transported back in time, witnessing the events after he found out she'd been playing with Owen.