The car ride to the ecomp had been silent.
Prof had stared out the window of the passenger seat the entire time. He hadn't said much since I'd explained to him the details of, well, everything. Needless to say, it hadn't gone great.
But hey, at least he'd liked Isaac.
Now we were at the venue in which the competition was being held. The place was a palace, the size of a football stadium. However, my growing nerves prevented me from paying too much attention to my ostentatious environment.
We were waiting anxiously outside the evaluation room. Lisa, Adrian and Rokim had gone to find out when it'd be starting, so we were left with Prof to stand near the doors. Only Rian and I would actually be going in, though; the rest would be herded off into the stands as part of a small audience.
So not only was I going to fail miserably, all my friends were going to see it happen. Fan-freaking-tastic, I thought bitterly.
Unfortunately, I was drawn out of my musings before I could formulate a plan.
"Well," said a snide voice, out of nowhere. "If it isn't Ms. Jordan."
My eyes snapped to the person who had spoken, already feeling anger pool in my gut. Rian did the same, scowling as soon as he saw who it was.
He shifted around slightlyâstuffing something into his pocket?âbut I wasn't able to see what he was doing clearly. My gaze was stuck on one thing, and one thing only.
The old evaluator from last night stood a few feet away, an ugly smirk on his even uglier face. "And I see you brought your insolent friend along with you. Delightful."
A fiery rejoinder was already on my lips, ready to slam him into a not-so-early grave. But, with the help of a warning glance from Prof, I barely managed to hold my tongue.
"Yes," I forced myself to respond politely. The words tasted as bitter as I felt. I thanked my lucky stars that I'd at least managed to learn his name before we arrived. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Waddles."
His eyes narrowed balefully. I raised my eyebrows, unsure what had gone wrong. But I couldn't deny a hint of satisfaction upon seeing his steadily reddening face.
"It's pronounced Wad-lays!"Â he hissed, clearly offended.
I blinked. "Ah. Wadlays. Yes, that's much better."
Prof shook his head, muttering something under his breath. I winced a littleâfrom what I caught, it didn't sound very good.
Mr. Waddles simply sneered. "I'm glad to see you're as disrespectful as ever, Ms. Jordan," he spat. "That way, it will seem much less surprising when I give you a score of zero during your evaluation."
I bristled, and Prof looked up sharply from where he'd been staring at the floor. The words hung in the air, and Waddles' smug expression proved he meant them. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Suspecting bias in a judge was one thing, but an outright declaration was another.
"That is an enormous breach of regulation," Prof said, his voice concealing a torrent of tightly restrained anger.
Waddles considered him with disdain. "Then perhaps you shouldn't have sent them to the Evaluators' Ball in the first place. Upstarts like you don't even deserve an invitation," he said nastily. "It was a wonder these two were allowed through the door."
I was silent, mulling over his words. Rian was stock-still, not engaging in the slightest. Whatever he'd been doing, shifting around earlier, had stopped as soon as Waddles had spoken. Prof scowled but said nothing, probably trying to keep the situation from worsening.
I, however, had other ideas.
"So there's nothing I can say to change your mind?" I asked, as innocently as possible.
Waddles smirked. "If you wanted me to change my mind, then you should have apologized last night."
I stepped closer to him. "And no matter what, you'll evaluate me and give me a zero?"
His smirk widened. "That's right."
I was directly in front of him now. I allowed my innocent expression to slip away, replacing it with a smile of sheer contempt. His smirk disappeared.
"Then evaluate me, bitch."
Prof choked on air. Rian's eyes widened. Waddles looked absolutely appalled. I smirked wickedly.
"You wanna give us a zero?" I continued, watching his pathetic attempts to regain his composure. "Go ahead. You'll never get an iota of respect from me."
He went red, a vein bulging out of his neck. "Youâ"
"Stop talking," I interrupted contemptuously. "You've already made your point. Now get out of here and do your job."
His face was turning purple. For a second I thought he would start screaming insults, but a nearby administrator passed by. "All judges are required inside immediately," she said, too distracted to notice his anger, before leaving again.
I cocked an eyebrow, tilting my head to the doors. He scowled, his face twisting unappealingly, but backed down. "Your disrespect will cost you," he hissed.
"Sure."
His scowl intensified, but he waddled away. I watched him go, unimpressed. Silence hung over the three of us for a moment, but it didn't last long.
"You're crazy," Rian said slowly. I turned to him, and his face was painted with disbelief. "You're really, truly insane."
"I second that notion," Prof echoed, his hands dug into his hair.
"But also amazing." Rian's eyes ran over me with a new appreciation, and a wicked smile pulled at his lips. He looked positively delighted, in a diabolic sort of way.
Devil. The thought infiltrated my mind with no warning. Only a devil would be so pleased with this.
"I also second that notion," Prof said, grinning at me. "I've never seen someone so intimidated by someone so short."
I sighed briefly. "Prof, I get that you're a cripple, but say that again and I'll break your other leg."
He only chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. Just then, Adrian, Lisa and Rokim returned to the group.
"Guys," Lisa said, out of breath. "It's starting."
I tensed. "Now?"
"Now."
I dragged my hands through my hair, letting the trails of auburn twine around my fingers. I'd been talking big earlier, but the fact of the matter was we couldn't win. A zero from an evaluator was a death sentence. "Shit," I murmured quietly.
The doors to the evaluation room opened. I eyed them with anxiety, but looked down when I felt something lightly hit my chest. I caught the object with ease, frowning at its source.
"Tie your hair," Rian ordered, gesturing to the scrunchie he'd just thrown at me. "I'm sure they'll give us the appropriate gear in there, but it wouldn't hurt to be prepared."
I scowled, but after a nod from Prof, I reluctantly put it on. Rian's eyes followed my movements as I wrapped the long tresses into a semi-messy bun. "Better?" I asked mockingly.
He didn't respond, instead glancing into the evaluation room. "We have one minute. I need to go handle something." He started towards the open doors.
"You haven't been called in yet," Adrian mentioned, but Rian just waved him away. My brow furrowed as he stalked inside, leaving the rest of us behind. What was so important that it needed attending to a minute before the ecomp?
"You better follow him," Prof sighed, rubbing his hands together. The crutch at his side didn't stop him from reaching forward and patting me on the shoulder. "Whatever happens in there, know that you did your best," he said, smiling reassuringly at me.
Rokim nodded, giving me an easy grin. "Try not to make them cry."
I smiled back at them, though it wasn't totally genuine. "I'll see you in the stands," I said, before stepping away and entering the room.
It was strangeâeverything I'd done up until that point in my life, I'd done with success in mind. But this time, failure wasn't just a possibility. It was promised. As I gazed out across the rows and rows of cooking stations, meeting the eyes of my competitors, I found it hard to believe that I'd be beaten by these people, and not even through any doing of their own.
I was angry. Which, admittedly, was a feeling I was growing dangerously used to.
A table labelled with our names caught my attention, and I groaned quietly. I made my way over to it, a little irked at its locationâit was right in front of the judges' panel. That smug bastard would literally be able to look down on us the entire time.
Great, I thought bitterly. My anger was on the rise and it didn't have an outlet. Just fucking great.
I turned to glare up at the panel of people I hated, trying to at least vent some of my ire that way, and froze.
My eyes first landed on Mr. Soo, who looked as mindbogglingly boring as usual. Him I wasn't too worried about. I'd done a good enough job placating him at the ball that he'd be impartial.
Next, I saw the woman who'd bumped into Isaac. She caught me looking at her and pursed her lips in embarrassment. My eyebrows went up when she nodded at me briefly, almost in apology. So I didn't have to worry about her either, huh?
Finally, my eyes drifted to whatâwhoâhad originally made me freeze in shock. And who else but the same person it had always been?
Rian stood up there, speaking to Mr. Waddles in tones too low for me to hear. He had something in his hand that I couldn't quite see, and was leaning forward intimidatingly.
From what I could see, it was working. Waddles looked thoroughly intimidated.
I frowned. This was what he had to attend to? There was nothing we could say to Waddles that would make him judge us fairly. There was no reason for him to be up there.
As though he could sense me looking at him, Rian glanced down off the panel platform. Our eyes met, and I scowled. Every time I looked at him I was reminded of unspeakable things, and how no matter what I did, he'd be there, whispering to me in the night.
Perhaps it wasn't the best mindset before a huge competition, but positivity hadn't really been my thing lately.
In response to my glower, Rian smirked. He smirked, and I hated it.
I hated myself all the more for feeling the surge of adrenaline, of sheer attraction, that rushed through me when I saw his face. He was so fucking smug, and I was actually hot for it. It was pathetic. I was pathetic.
Yeah. Positivity really wasn't my thing.
Apparently, it wasn't Waddles' either, because his expression as Rian stepped away was absolutely abhorrent. If he wasn't so old and grey, I'd think he'd actually try to punch him. But nothing happened. Rian walked towards me, unscathed and arrogant as ever.
"What was that?" I asked, spinning another fork between my fingers nonchalantly.
He eyed the fork for a moment before stepping beside me, in the same position as the hundred other contestants and their ACs. "Nothing much," he said. "Just following up on your threat earlier."
"My empty threat earlier," I corrected, crossing my arms. "We're still screwed, no matter what I said."
He smirked at me again, and my scowl intensified. "I wouldn't say that," he replied cryptically. "Let's just do our best and see what happens."
I stared at him, not comprehending the sudden optimism. "Whatever," I said dismissively, dropping the fork on the table. He cocked a brow when it clattered onto the hard surface.
"Arrogant pisse-froid," I muttered quietly under my breath, turning to face the front. But apparently it wasn't quiet enough, because Rian scowled immediately after I said it.
"You're awfully angry," he pointed out, a hint of ire creeping into his tone. "Seems a bit backwards, wouldn't you agree?"
The announcer had stepped up, waving for everyone's attention. The competition was starting, but I didn't care. I was distracted by the inflammatory bullshit Rian had suddenly begun spouting.
"What are you talking about?" I growled, keeping my eyes forward and fists clenched, lest they did something I'd later regret.
"I'm talking about your random shift in attitude," Rian growled back, stepping closer behind me. The announcer had begun speaking, going over the rules, but it was nothing I hadn't heard from Prof already. I could only focus on Rian's growing proximity as he continued to speak.
"You nearly died in front of me," he said, and that old indecipherable note took hold in his voice. "In front of me, Hanna. Do you know what that did to me? What it could have done?"
My shoulders tensed. A stray line of guilt cut into me, but I squashed it down. I was done being guilty.
"Is that what you've been so pissy about?" I asked harshly. He was so close now that I could feel the heat radiating from his body and onto my back. "Well, tough. I don't care what it did to you, Rian. I don't care about you at all."
He froze, and I knew my cruel words had worked. The announcer was introducing the judges now. It was a while before Rian spoke again, his voice completely emotionless this time.
"I'm not saying you should care. It's better that you don't," he said lowly. "After this we can go our separate ways. You never have to see me again."
I gritted my teeth. Is that really what you want? To never see him again? That annoying inner voice sprung to life, but for once I was ready for it. I had my answer.
Yes.
"But for now," Rian continued, impassive and logical as ever, "we have to work together. Can you do that?"
The announcer gestured to a large clock on the wall. It read 1:00:00. That meant we had one hour to get our shit together and come up with an original, impressive dishâa dish that reflected its cooks in both talent and emotion.
And I had plenty of emotion at my disposal. Rian's words sparked the beginnings of an idea in my mind.
I may have had plenty of emotion, but one in particular stood out.
"Hanna." Rian caught my attention again. My lips stretched into a devilish grin that could put even him to shame. "I'm asking if you can push your anger aside long enough for us to win."
"No, I can't," I replied, my mind racing. I looked over the materials we had, my smile widening. I turned to him, and he raised an eyebrow at my expression. "But I can use it."
He frowned, but by that point I'd already made my plan. The announcer called "You may begin!" and the timer started.
So I begun.