Chapter 22: Rager

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The bartender slides a glass of whiskey into my hand. It's cool to the touch, but the alcohol is a slow burn down my throat. Abengane holds up his glass like he was expecting a toast. There's no use in putting off a perfectly good drink after the day I've had. I'm sure he meant this to be a social affair. Some of it will be, but first I need to calm my nerves. Mellow out with the low folk music in the background.

I lean my head against the glass. "What's on your mind?"

"Well first congrats on winning the contest. Anyone who could survive that shit show deserved to win."

I shrug and lean my head to the side. "I actually thought you'd win. It's hard to go wrong with Freddie Mercury."

"I thought so too. But the rawness of your voice was haunting. I think it's something everyone feels, but doesn't want to admit, that fragility when we're hurt, because we have to keep moving. To be strong and fragile at the same time, to be that vulnerable in front of a crowd is amazing. I felt your voice in my bones. Were those tears real or just a part of the show?"

I sigh, too tired to lie. And it's not like I'm going to see this guy again. Anonymity can be safe. "Both."

"It seems like you're having a tough day."

"Hence the offer for the drink?"

"In part."

"And what's the other part?" I ask.

Several rowdy men enter the bar, but quiet down when they see us. They look at me like I've done something to them. They might be from the contest, but if so, their performances didn't stand out because I don't really remember them. One of them approaches the bar to order drinks and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. It's a sharp look that cuts. Best to keep an eye on this group. I clutch the glass in my hand, just in case I need to break it over his head.

Abengane turns around and leans over the bar next to me. The way his elbow touches mine makes me believe he doesn't want anyone to see what he's about to say. We're being watched. Obviously Killua is somewhere, but I have a feeling there's someone else, perhaps multiple people. Guess I better enjoy this moment of peace while I can.

"It would seem you have a lot of admirers."

I chuckle and sip my drink. "That's one way of putting it."

"I had my suspicions that someone had it out for you when the music kept changing. I'm assuming they've seen your talent and that's why they tried to sabotage you. I saw a pale man with red hair on a few occasions and wondered..."

Once he says that, I don't hear what comes after because my thoughts are too loud. I try so hard to hide my smile that I blush. So Hisoka is here. Wonder why he's hiding. It doesn't sound like he and Killua get along so there's no mystery about earlier, but why not now? He definitely doesn't strike me as the type to be uncomfortable interrupting a conversation or stealing me from someone else. Hell, if anything that would stroke his ego.

My skin prickles as if it can already sense his eyes on me. If only I could feel his nail lightly graze my neck or back, or smell the cedarwood of his skin. I want to look for him, but can't be too obvious. Maybe he wants a chase. Hmm, if that's the case he'll just have to catch me because I'm in no mood to run. "He wouldn't sabotage me. The guy you're talking about. I know him. Many people do want to see me fail, but he isn't one of them."

Abengane raises an eyebrow at me. Maybe he can sense the added sweetness in my voice. "A lot of people wanted that card, but I'm hoping we can narrow down suspects."

My nails tap against the glass and I feel the coolness massage my fingertips. It soothes me as I think about the usual suspects. Mattheo's cronies. He's not brave or stupid enough to approach me on his own. The Bomber or one of his henchmen, if they know about me, which they shouldn't. The men behind us who are muttering into their drinks. Anyone in the crowd during the contest. Oh yea, and Machi for whatever reason.

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