34. Blind Masses.

“You can’t still be mad,” Ryder whines, hurrying to catch up with me, for once.

Ignoring him, I continue with my match to the main hall where most of our trials were going to take place.

“Drac, chill,” He calls again.

The name had me pausing, an acute pain going through my body. Ax called me that, Ax who was with my little boy, and the rest of the people I had weirdly begun to think of as friends, maybe even family if time allowed; they had seemed like a nice enough bunch.

My scowl intensifies as I turn to Ryder.

“What? What did I say?” he asks nervously taking a few steps back.

“You made me remember,” I answer before resuming my match without giving him a chance to respond and I almost end up face-first on the floor thanks to another pair of heels.

“Stupid heels and stupid dress and STUPID FUCKING TRIALS! Who the hell holds a competition to find a mate? Isn’t that supposed to happen naturally?”

“Feel better,” Ryder asks from behind me and I whirl on him, my ire had found a suitable target.

“No jerk face, I don’t. But leaving this place will make me feel better, I promise,” I add my sarcasm thick

“I told you, only the king can let you leave,” he mutters watching me like I was about to jump him. Which I was so close to doing.

“That’s just it Ryder! You didn’t tell me shit! I had to find out ass deep into the competition that I couldn’t leave. Don’t forget I was brought here against my will, unlike the rest.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles looking chastised.

“Did you know? When you forced me to acknowledge you back home? When you became my friend, to the point I trusted you with my life, did you?”

I don’t give him a chance to respond, the anger in me boiling over.

“Oh, wait you are from here so of course, you knew. Was all that strategy, make me trust you enough that when your friends came, I’d follow along blindly?” Everyone was watching us now although I wasn’t exactly yelling, but I didn’t care.

“When poor little Mahina came to drown her sorrows and when she needed a word of encouragement when work was getting difficult?” I continue in a self-depreciating tone.

“Tell me!” I didn’t know why I was asking; his face was enough to answer me, he looked like he was in pain, maybe the guilt was eating at him.

Too late.

Ignoring the crowd that had gathered, I get into the hall and move to where my name was pinned along with the number eight.

Eislyn was already there standing behind my seat arms folded behind her, she didn’t look like her, she almost looked...meek.

“Who spat in your coffee?” I ask in a whisper, shoving Ryder and everything else aside.

“I feel guilty,” she whispers back, “I’m also not trying to give these people more reason to punish me,” she says motioning to the already seated contestants and their attendants.

“Why do you feel guilty? What did you do?” I ask settling into my seat.

“I knew your circumstances were different, I should have acted better about, well, everything,” She murmurs sheepishly.

“Don’t sweat it, I’m not mad; at least not at you. Now, will you please tell me why I’m the last one?” I ask hoping to shelve the topic.

“Ryder didn’t fake your friendship, he wouldn’t shut up about you every time he came back, always excited about when you decide to go drink, I was understandably very jealous.”

She goes silent, waiting for me to answer.

“Let’s not talk about that,” I dodge, “Answer my question first.”

“Well, I was trying to be kind, but if you insist, it’s because of how you look. According to the blind brainwashed masses, you rank last in appearance, which is bullshit, but no one asked me.”

“Figures,” I answer with a laugh.

Eislyn moves to the side of my seat, probably so she could see me better, “I thought you’d be pissed, maybe hurt.”

“Please, I think I’m immune now, in my line of work I get a lot of hate from the girls especially and a lot of unwanted attention from males. My hair was not winning me any fans either, funny how unique can only classify as ugly or unattractive.”

“Sorry, I know females can be mean.” Eis says patting me in comfort.

“Try downright vicious, they once tried to melt my hips and pull and pop the supposed implants, I kid you not those bitches tried to set me on fire,” I continue.

Whatever she answers is drowned out as the lights dim in the hall, leaving only one side of the room brightly lit by a wall sconce, I think.

“What’s happening?” I ask disoriented.

“Shhhhhhh.”

Glaring toward the shush, I turn what I assume would pass for an expectant face towards Eis.

“First event; talent showcase, if they haven’t changed the program,” She answers also glaring at the shusher.

“Well, I can’t wait,” I answer sarcasm dripping.