006 · Verena · II

As he grinned, I noticed the sharpness of his jaw and cheekbones, and as my eyes went down, I noticed a tattoo coming from his shoulders, but I couldn't tell what it was. He also had black earrings with a diamond ranging from the right one, in each of his ears, and for some reason, that made him even more charming.

Thankfully, I managed to keep my bored, cold, poker face, and didn't showed anything I was actually thinking.

"Are you done, darling?" What?

I scoffed, "Don't call me that!"

"Oh, but I think it suits you."

"I don't give a fuck about what you think. And you shouldn't be so rude to people, you know? It's humans like you to make people stop believing in humanity," and I'm one of the people who doesn't believe in it. But he doesn't need to know that. "Who do you think you are to come here and order Josh around like that? Why can't you just ask for the drink? Don't you know the power of a please and a thank you?" I scoffed, judging him.

Raising his dark sharp eyebrows in amusement, his feral grin got wider, "I don't see anything wrong with the way I talked with that weakling," what? "Why? Are you mad, darling? Is he what? Your little boyfriend?"

What the hell is wrong with this dude? How can he be as handsome as he is an asshole? "Weakling? Can't you hear yourself? Do you have a God complex or something?"

"Did I say anything wrong? He is a weakling, can't you tell?" He has some serious problem. "I'm just speaking the obvious!"

I scoffed and drank the rest of my drink in one go, seeing Samuel Michaels coming to me from the corner of my eyes, "The only obvious things here is that you are an A+ asshole and is ridiculous with those pinkish lens. What are you? A rebellious teenager?" I jumped from my seat, covering my chin with the mask and he got up in the same second, proving me how right I was about his height as I was around his collarbones with those four inches boots, and I'm 5'5, quite a good height.

"You hurt me like that, darling!"

I gave him a scrutinizing glare, "And why do you think I give a fuck about that?" However, when I turned on my heels to got to Michaels, the rude jerk held me by my wrist.

My wounded wrist, making me let out a painful growl, "What is wrong with you?" I knee-kicked the middle of his legs and he jerked off of me. "Fuck. Why are guys like you such a jerks?"

And as I walked far from him, I heard him saying to someone, "Found one of the two rabbits, guys. The savage one," what the hell does he means by that?

Doubt by Twenty One Pilots played on the speakers as I reached the organizer of the rings. "The last two ended quickly, you are up next, White. Go change."

Leaving the strange hot asshole behind, I nodded and headed inside. Going to the elevator at the back and pressing the 11th button. In no time I was there and went to the restroom, locking the door behind me, putting down my backpack with my clothes. I switched my black sweater and bra for the white training top that made my breasts stay still why fighting, the gym white shorts that went until the middle of my thighs looking like a second skin. I reinforced the bandages in my wrists that were bleeding thanks to the son of a bitch in the bar, and covered my knuckles and ankles too.

I had already styled my hair in two root boxing braids so my long locks wouldn't become a problem, so it was okay. Putting all of my things on my black backpack again, I only put my shoes again, and held my big bottle of water and my small third-hand phone in hand. A phone that Benjamin gave me for 10 dollars, and that can only make calls and send SMS, but that's more than enough for me anyways.

I turned my phone on and sent a word to Benjamin.

Verena: My fight will begin sooner than expected, so I'll be up in a minute.

Satan from eBay: Great. That's my Verena Seraph. Break them in the span of two songs. No more, no less. You have a reputation, and I make good use of that.

Satan from eBay: Remember that this fight will be worth 2 grand. Play with your food a little bit, and finish it.

Satan from eBay: Come back to New Orleans right after you are done, Seraph. I have another work for you here.

Verena: As you wish.

As I put my phone on my backpack again, I fought the urge to puke at his words. "My Verena Seraph? Ugh, who does that sprout of Satan think he is? Fuck, I'm going to kill him when I'm done with all this shit. I'll kill him. I swear I will."

When I left the restroom, I made sure that no one heard what I said and closed the door behind me. Going straight to the arena, which was already flooded with an ocean of people who like this shady business.

"And the famous White Swan is back," Landon Michael, Samuel's brother exclaimed in the speaker and the crowd cheered. "Our epic two-songs fighter," he added as the spotlight came to me. I ignored everyone and everything, walking straight up the ring, putting my backpack and my water bottle on my side of the ring. "And she's with a scowl as always," he mocked.

I gave him a deadly glared and he had the decency of flinching.

"What will be the songs tonight, White Swan?"

Rolling my eyes, I drank ⅓ of my water bottle and put it down again. "The Hills and Lost in the Fire both by The Weeknd!" Lots of people cheered to that, and I focused on my target. It was a young girl who seemed to be around 16 years old, and that made my heart ache as I saw myself in her, but I put all of that aside. "Do you enjoy the songs too? If you want to change one, you can," I talked to her as she came closer to me, and I could smell her anxiety.

"N-no. No. I like your choices, White Swan. Do you like The Weeknd?"

Poor kid. "I sure do. He's my favorite singer. And you go by what, sweetheart?"

She bit her bottom lip, her pale skin reddening, "I'm Black Mamba," cute. Quite the deadly snake though, and I'm pretty much terrified to death of it. But it's poetic.

Can you imagine? A White Swan destroying a Black Mamba? Neither can I. And that's why the sound of it is so cool.

"Badass," I winked at her and she smiled.

"I've watched you fight before!"

"From 0 to 10?" I arched my eyebrow.

"10, definitely. I'm honored to fight you," oh God.

I bet she's here to pay a debt too. She should be occupied with high school, friends, with her love life. But no, she's here, fighting in such a dangerous place. "The honor is all mine, Black Mamba." I'm genuinely sorry for this kid, but I can't let her win.

"How old are you?" Her eyes gleamed as she asked that. She must really have watched me fighting before, she had the eyes of a helpless fan. A kid her age shouldn't be near those rings though, not even to watch it.

"One. Nine." I whispered.

"I'm three less than you." As I imagined.

"Are you done playing with your prey?" Landon barked, making everyone laugh. He always does this when I come here. Just like Jackson does it back in the New Orleans' ring.

But I don't play with them. I genuinely feel bad for having to break them to win. So, I always have a small and quick friendly talk with them before we start the fight.

"Every thing is allowed in this fight. Except killing. Are we understood?" Landon's words resounded, annoying the fuck out of me.

"Yeah!" We exclaimed together.