
Chapter 10: That's our manager
"No one or everyone?"
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Kai
"Well, well, look who we have got here,"
...All starz.
The moment the words reached his ears, he knew it was them. After all, even if he wasn't fond of words there are a few people who can make his self restraint shudder even before they do something. Michael Summers was one of them, All starz was most of them.
The moment Bladebreakers turned around and their gaze founded All Starz the temperature dropped—not literally, but the arrogance thickened the air like smog.
Kai clocked them instantly.
Michael Summers, as insufferable as ever, strutted in with his sunglasses pushed up into his gelled hair and a smug grin that made Kai want to walk in the opposite direction, somewhere far, far away from them.
"Well, well, if it isn't the prodigal sons. Reuniting the old gang, huh? Thought you'd all moved on," Michael drawled, stepping closer. Steve and Eddy followed him standing beside him, both exuding the same frat-boy confidence. Emily, mercifully, was quiet, tapping away on her tablet like she had better places to be.
He was gonna punch that idiot.
Maybe rip that smirk off his face and hand it to him too.
"Some bonds are stronger than contracts, Summers," he muttered loud enough, to reach the ears of the one's he wanted to say this too.
"Funny, last we checked, you all were too busy chasing solo glory to remember what teamwork means," Steve said, his voice laced with barely concealed annoyance and mockery, "so busy that bladebreakers had disbanded and you all were in your separate ways with your friends,"
It wasn't difficult to assume that this was aimed at Max.
Deja vu.
That's the feeling that engulfed him at that moment.
After all, this was vaguely similar to their first championship when they were in America, in All starz training stations– where there hurt and anger on Max, for not joining them was visible. Where they have gone far enough to collect data of their beyblades without their knowledge.
Cowards.
That's what he had thought they were then.
Cowards who for the sake of their hurt feelings and ego would use any means to win, right or not.
Though after their win in that championships, they and Max had made up. That blonde kid was back to his bubbly self.
And now again, all this.
Then again, after the last championship where Bladebreakers had broken off and everyone was in separate teams– where it had been a death gamble for most of them. Things have changed.
A lot.
Many things had happened to stoke the fire of rivalry even more between each individual and team they had left.
"Can we please not bring our professional decisions into our personal life?" Ray said, one hand rubbing his temple and he gave them a look– one that over the years Kai had gotten good at reading– the one which screamed 'seriously? I don't think anyone has the energy to deal with this bullshit right now', "We are not kids now, our professional decisions shouldn't affect our personal relations,"
That's why Ray's presence had always been tolerable, he had a maturity and voice of reason most of the other's lack.
"Ah, maybe people should think that before changing teams as they please, just because they can– or because they think they can win only in that,"
Steve's voice was anything but polite.
And, God forbids, they will listen to logic.
This shit was giving him a headache. I am this close to just walking away from here, maybe that's what I should do too for the sake of my sanity and to stop the blossoming headache.
A faint familiar sigh drew his attention drawing his attention to his left, to her.
And there she stood, a few feets behind him near the car that's supposed to take them to the hotel. Her fingers delicately holding a compact mirror, trying to fix the smudge of mascara under her left eye, just below her lower lashes, the one she had messed up while accidently rubbing her eyes during sleeping in plane.
And as much as Kai detest the fact that he might have let himself have a few minutes to trace her features when she was asleep, it was also the truth. The truth includes the fact that, even if he doesn't accept the fact himself, she is one of the most beautiful girl he has ever met.
And not just because of how she looks, though her features are striking enough– the eyes that have etched them into his mind, the ones which look so familiar and yet nothing has ever felt more unfamiliar than them, the eyelashes that frame her face beautifully when she closes her eyes. The cupid bow of her lips that is usually coated with lip gloss, the rise of her cheekbone or the faint shadow her nose casts.
But, it was her personality too. Everything about her, the elusive trail she has in herself. The way she talks, the way she throws back replies with sardonic edge and sharp smiles, everything about her was a warning that she was not what she looks, and has secrets hidden darker than most people would imagine– her obsession with security, the way despite being the manager of a Beyblade team she never relax even once when they are practicing, the snippets of conversation with some Ryan that he have listened.
And yet at the same time she is also someone who would sit in a park and play with kittens, who would offer a drink just because she might have said something rude. The one who would relax when they are alone, even if in the slightest.
He didn't like this.
He didn't like her.
He didn't like the fact that he does the same when he is with her.
And, he especially hates the things she made him feel, she made him think. How her presence which should be alarming only comfort him, how despite everything, he feels his jagged edges getting softer when he is with her.
She is familiar.
She is comfort.
She is-
No one.
She is no one.
No one, important.
No one, familiar.
No one.
Denial is better than acceptance, when acceptance only leads to broken hearts and deeper wounds.
And so, Kai let himself pretend that she is a passing amusement just someone who matches his wits, someone he asks questions or taunt just to hear her replies.
"Really?" he said, his voice low– only enough for her to hear as he turned toward her, arms crossed, "Mascara touch-up now?"
She narrowed her eyes subtly at the mirror in her hands, her hand trying to dab away the mess under her eyes, "I handle your PR image, schedules, meetings, sponsorships, match order up and sometimes the whole team inability to function as adults. Nowhere in my contract does it say that testosterone fueled rivalries are my jurisdiction," her frustrated sigh made his lips twitch, "and what the hell, why won't you tell me, my mascara is messed up? I had so much time on plane, I could have done this touch up there,"
He scoffs, though it was more amusement then annoyance, "Why, sorry, my lady," his voice was dry, "that my mind was on the unofficial matches here instead of your oh-so messed up eyes,"
Liar.
He had definitely noticed that when he had traced her features, and he could have told her but there is nothing better than seeing her annoyed over small things.
Daily amusement is good.
"Oh, please-"
Her pretty voice was cut off by another voice that was now giving him a headache.
"Who is this pretty lady, huh?"
Can this boy keep his mouth shut for a second, don't he know better than to interrupt when two people are talking?
Micheal eyes dragged across her body slowly, his smirk far too confident for someone who had no idea what– or who he was dealing with.
Ahana sighed, shutting the compact with a click of fingers before keeping it in her handbag, looking absolutely tired before this conversation have even begun.
Michael, of course, couldn't take the hint. He walked right to her, taking her hand without invitation, "You look like someone who belongs on the cover of a magazine, not backstage with these guys. Care to tell your name sweetie, preferably slowly, for memory of course,"
Ahana's eyes flickered to her hand in his grasp, before she spoke up voice calm even after the tension in her shoulders, "Let go,"
Kai was gonna kill him.
Slowly.
For memory, if he didn't let go of that hand in the next ten seconds.
"How about I buy you a drink after this? A girl like you needs something stronger than coffee if she's dealing with him,"
His thumb brushed her knuckles. That was the last straw.
That's it, damn the consequences, he is gonna strangle him.
Since, when did he start plotting murder for someone he had termed as just a passing amusement?
Maybe she was a bit more than a nobody after all.
Ahana didn't move right away. But Kai saw it—the shift in her stance, the tightening of her jaw. Danger, finely bottled.
The next moment was a blur.
One twist. One sharp step forward. And Michael was down, his back against the cool concrete, breath caught, eyes wide.
Ahana stood over him, her wedge heel resting—just enough—on his wrist. Not to break, but to remind.
The Bladebreakers were stunned. The All Starz? Stunned and embarrassed.
"Let go of my hand next time I say let go," she said, cool as ever.
"Damn—okay—ow—okay!" Michael gasped.
She leaned forward, just a touch, "Also, I don't drink with amateurs,"
Then she straightened her skirt, stepped off his arm like he was gum on the street, and walked off as if nothing had happened.
Kai's lips curved. Barely. But it was there.
Michael sat up, cradling his wrist with a dazed look, "What the hell was that?"
Kai finally spoke again, tone icy, as he turned back, his strides aiming to catch up with her, "That was our manager,"
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