Iris Giorgianni is no ordinary girl. She's living a double life: a neglected daughter at home, but a fighter on the streets. As the leader of The Sangue - one of the most wanted and well-known gangs in London - Iris has a reputation to uphold. Only...
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"To be angry is to revenge the faults of others on ourselves."
- Alexander Pope
IT WAS a change to be in Camp Juvy. Not because of the area or the people – but because of the way Iris was treated. In London, she was feared. People would avoid eye contact, walk with their heads facing the floor, eyes cast downwards. Mostly, Iris was feared because she was surrounded by her gang, but she was well known in London. In fact, she was known across the world.
Just not as Iris.
Her nickname – the Revenant – was the only form of recognition that people used. They couldn't put a face to the name, for she wished to stay anonymous. Anonymity guaranteed her safety. Anonymity meant she could be both. Anonymity meant the police would never find her.
And that worked out well, because the Revenant was wanted by police.
Iris Giorgianni, however, wasn't.
She couldn't help but wonder if she would be treated differently here had people known who she was. Would the people in Camp Juvy even recognise the nickname?
Part of her wanted to be feared. There was something exhilarating about having people be scared of you. It made you superior – envied, almost. But there was also something isolating. Being feared meant that people weren't jumping at the chance to be friends with you. The few friends she had were her gang; even though sometimes she wondered if they were only friends with her because they had to be.
Shaking off the thought, she began to walk away from her camp mates eating lunch. She didn't even need friends, anyway. Why did it matter if people feared her or not?
"Hey, Iris!" Shouted a voice behind her, small but distinct. She turned around, seeing Hunter, carrying what looked like a sandwich and an apple.
Iris rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"
"That's not a very nice thing to say to a friend." Hunter replied, his voice getting louder as his features finally came into view. His hair was swept to the side, cheeks flushed with the wind. "Thought you might want some lunch, seeing as you didn't take any."
"I'm fine."
Hunter shrugged, sitting down onto the grass at her feet. If he was offended by her rudeness in any way, he didn't show it, merely tucking into the sandwich in his hand.
As the seconds turned into minutes, Iris' anger slowly dissipated into guilt. Hunter was being nice. After all, it wasn't as if he'd done anything wrong.
With a grunt, she sat next to him, ignoring the surprised smile on his face as he watched her. The two began to sit in silence, though neither seemed to find the situation awkward. Iris took the time to analyse the attendants of Camp Juvy as they chatted amongst themselves, laughing as if they were having the best experience in the world. She wondered what half of these people had done to actually get thrown into the camp. It looked as if they'd volunteered themselves.
