𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 - 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃

𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐳𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐛.

Between two empty concrete buildings nestled in a long forgotten industrial park is where Clove was once again surrounded by the thumping music and sweaty, mingling bodies.

It was weird being there, everyone regarded each other with cautious eyes as they passed one another. Clove supposed it was expected, the image of the seizing man was burned into her memory like tire tracks. The edge that settled over those gathered in the wide alleyway between the unused buildings was almost tangible and yet was still a complete juxtaposition to the false laughs and smug smiles that seemed to be everywhere Clove looked.

Despite that the races were continuing as usual, as if nothing had happened – as if they hadn't witnessed a man die.

She pushed through the first cluster of people she encountered, easily passing under arms and around bodies until she got to the other side; finally, able to breathe air that wasn't tinged with other people's body heat. The night was alright humid enough. 

"You racing tonight?" A familiar voice asked her from behind.

She turned around and a smile spread across her lips, it was Jasper – she should've known he'd be lingering on the outskirts of the groups like she was.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" Clove replied, her eyebrow raising slightly.

"Well... after everything that happened..."  Jasper trailed off.

"It's not like racing tonight will change what happened last time." Clove rolled her eyes.

He shrugged and looked around, Clove did too. The crowd wasn't as busy as they used to be, a side effect of most people leaving the city or being too busy – although she guessed that it might have a little to do with the recent deaths that spooked some in the community.

"What? Are people seriously not racing?" Clove said with a huff, hands at her hips as she glanced around the crowd, their shifty eyes all the more noticeable now she was looking for it.

"Less people are willing to, I guess its superstition or some shit." Jasper shrugged again.

"You're joking right, that's bullshit." She let out a humourless laugh.

"Hey," he held his hands up in front of him "Don't shoot the messenger."

She sighed, "Sorry, it's just like... what the fuck, I don't think he's gonna be haunting all of us, y'know?"

"Yeah I get it," Jasper sighed and then grabbed a bottle of vodka from a passing girl. "Just try and be careful, cops are everywhere now, and I don't want you going to jail. Got it?" He took a gulp straight from the bottle and then passed it on to Clove.

"You don't have to worry about me, Jazz." She smirked and took the bottle.

He rolled his eyes and began to sink back into the crowd, looking over his shoulder to call to Clove, "five minutes until show time, alright princess?"