Chapter Twenty-Nine: Set My Heart Free

Miguel was always so understanding. He listened to her every word. He even remembered their past conversations and often followed up on them when they met again. The perfect man. Handsome. Intelligent. Caring. But there was something missing. He was too kind. Too… perfect. The type of boy her mother would approve of.

He had invited her to dine out with him at a nice comfortable restaurant in Queenstown. A cool breeze blew through the valley, brushing up against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She pulled her jacket around her tighter, as if that would somehow keep her warm. Every time she exhaled a puff of white cloud would escape her mouth.

Miguel had booked a table outside so they could appreciate the night sky better. He knew she enjoyed looking up at the night sky and naming all the constellations she could recognize. He thought ahead, but something wasn't right.

"Emily? Are you okay?"

There he was again. Looking at her with those beautiful blue eyes with a genuine sweetness in his tone. He really cared about her wellbeing. Mustering up a smile, she said, "I'm fine. I'm just thinking that's all. What if I made a mistake? The PBB has been my life. Judy gave me a chance to be someone. It's with her I found respect."

He frowned. "I thought you were uncomfortable. Your teammates… They don't treat you like a friend, but an accessory. Em," he said, reaching out a hand to touch her arm. A shiver of delight ran up her arm. "You're not obligated to be with them. Think about the things we managed to achieve together. Remember the BEGA episode? We came together and made something happen."

Although his touch was pleasant, she pulled her arm away. "I know. It's just…"

"You think about them, don't you?"

"I've spent years with them, Miguel. They are practically my family."

Miguel picked up his coffee instead. "Right."

"I'm making a mess of this aren't I?" she said then rubbed her temples.

"It is a bit awkward," Miguel replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "I thought you wanted to be with me. You know I think fondly of you. But I can sense your true feelings are for someone else. I can't stop you from loving another man. I just want you to be happy, Em."

He was such a sweet boy and deserved so much more. "You're the best guy a girl could ever have, Miguel. Really. You deserve so much more. I just… I wish I felt the same, but I can't lie to myself. I've tried running away, but my thoughts follow me." How she hated this. Why did she have to fall for the wrong person? Why couldn't she fall for someone like Miguel?

He just chuckled. "We can't help who we fall in love with, Em. Who caught your fancy? Max?"

"Max is a nice boy, but he's too… He's not my type."

Miguel leaned back in his chair. "Kenny, right? He's smart. You're smart."

Rolling her eyes, Emily said, "That would not be a healthy relationship. We'd be competing against each other all the time. Besides, he's not man enough."

That amused him greatly. He almost spilled his coffee over the table. "Oh, you like those macho masculine types then?" His grin widened. "Let me list some names… Johnny…. Kai…. They fit the checklist."

She didn't like that gleam in his eyes. "Johnny? No. I played tennis with that guy once, and I wanted to throw the racquet at this face. He's so obnoxious, I don't know how anyone can stand to be around that guy. And Kai? Please. He's too… serious." Her expression turned serious. "I know he's not the same person he was back then, but it's hard to forget he did take my bitbeast away for a short period of time. He never apologized either."

"You're not leaving me with many options here, so I think this person is someone close to home." Miguel cut into his steak and ate a piece.

Emily had lost her appetite for food. It felt wrong to be treated to a meal by a man she thought she loved. At least he didn't seem mad. Not on the surface anyway. "Can you tell I don't get out much if my options are that limited?" She grabbed her glass of water to help quell her nerves. It did little to change anything.

"He's on your team. Loves his sport. Can be a little arrogant. He gets on your nerves often, but deep down you enjoy the attention. No one else evokes a strong reaction from you. Let me guess. Michael Parker?"

Heat rushed to her cheeks. If only she could bury her face in a handkerchief or something, but she didn't have one on her. Bloody Michael Parker. Why did he have to be the one fate wanted her to like? It was so obvious even Miguel had noticed. "That obvious, huh?" she said.

"You've known each other for quite some time."

"I told him I was leaving because of him. I said I wasn't coming back. How do I go back now after everything I said?" She took another sip of water despite not being thirsty.

"If he wants you back, he'll welcome you with open arms. You need to go back, Emily. Back to where you belong and where you'll find the happiness you seek. Some people don't realize what they've lost until they're gone. He's had a taste of that. Go. Don't keep him waiting."

She gestured to the food. "But you'll be alone."

"It wouldn't be the first time I've eaten alone. I promise I'll manage just fine."

"But I owe you for the meal." She dug a hand into her bag, eagerly looking for some notes.

Miguel laughed and shook his hands. "Emily. Please. It's fine. It's just one meal."

Still, she was reluctant, but she did climb to her feet. "Thank you."

"Hey. Thank me later at your wedding day."

Her cheeks reddened further. "That's getting way too far in the future."

He chuckled. "Take care, Emily." He waved her goodbye then continued his food.

Emily retreated and headed outside to call for a cab. She hoped Miguel was right. After everything she said, would Michael still welcome her?

.

"It had to be this way, mother," Hiro said, looking down at the tombstone, his hands in his pockets. Melinda Granger, a loving mother of two boys. Her end had been quick. Killed in a car crash a few weeks before Tyson had been born. "All you wanted was the best for us both." He laid down a few pink roses and closed his eyes.

The sound of heavy footprints interrupted his thoughts. Turning around, he spotted his father walking towards him, his lips pressed in a thin line, and thick brows furrowed. The man was holding a bouquet of pink roses. Their first encounter in many long years. The last time they had met, Hiro had slammed a door in his face, accusing their father of abandoning them for work.

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here, Hiro."

"Father," Hiro remarked tersely. "How nice of you to show."

His father crossed his arms. "I saw you coaching that rival team. Do you enjoy hurting people? Haven't you done enough harm?"

Hiro tightened his jaw. Speaking through clenched teeth, he said, "I have my reasons. I'm not going to tell you what they were. You'd never understand. You blame me for leaving, but you did the exact same thing. You walked out on us both. I guess you could say like father, like son."

The man's gaze hardened. "I had to leave to support the family. Father couldn't work, and you were too young. Boris had offered me a large sum of money for my services over the years, and I had to take this opportunity."

"And you had pledged yourself to a madman."

"You did the same. I know you worked for Boris too."

Hiro gave a wry smile. "Like father, like son again. You taught me well. Walk away from family to chase money and ambition." He drew in a deep breath and exhaled, reminding himself to remain calm.

"I left with good intentions. You just left without any excuse. You've done this your entire life, Hiro. Always running. When are you going to stop?" The man unfolded his arms, his voice raised. "You broke his heart the day you left. You broke mine as well."

Fiercely protective as always, he thought. You've done a fine job of raising Tyson. He's lucky to have you. Out aloud, he said, "Tyson doesn't need me. Not anymore." And the world shall not mourn my passing.

"So, why did you even return? You side with BEGA, leave, then return coaching the enemy team once more. What Tyson wants is his family – his older brother. But loyalty wasn't something you ever understood." His stern expression never changed.

So much for time supposedly healing all wounds. Hiro ignored the man and turned his attention back to the gravestone. Dropping to his knees, he reached out and touched the stone as if it would somehow bring him closer to her. His fingers only met cold stone. "I couldn't be the man you wanted me to be but know everything I've done was to help Tyson become better. That's all that's ever mattered. Being the best." His chest tightened, a heavy feeling on his shoulders.

"It's not going to change anything," his father said.

Feeling the man's eyes boring into the back of his skull, Hiro surged to his feet once more then turned around. "No, it won't. But I'm not going to apologize for what I've done. To be the best you must be tested. No one else could test Tyson in the same way I have. If I had stayed at his side during the Bega incident, do you think he would've been strong enough to defeat Brooklyn?"

"We don't know the answer to that."

Hiro shook his head. "Because you know the answer would be no. Tyson's strength comes from his desire to do good in this world. To protect the weak and avenge those who can't do it themselves." He narrowed his gaze, returning the steely look his father gave him. "If I had sided with Tyson during that episode, he wouldn't feel so compelled. His feeling of betrayal made him stronger. He had to prove to himself that I wasn't needed, and he achieved that."

Silence, then, "Did you want Brooklyn to win?"

"No. But I wanted to make him believe he could win."

His father raised a brow. "And what if Brooklyn had won? Boris would be in control."

Shaking his head again, Hiro answered, "It was never going to happen. Tyson was never going to lose. You berate me for being disloyal, but you are the one expressing doubt." Stepping away from the headstone, Hiro closed the distance between himself and his father, his gaze locked on the man's face. "I've played my role. My journey here is done. Tyson's story is not over yet."

For once, there was concern in the man's eyes. "You're leaving. Again."

"And I'm not coming back."

Arching a brow, his grandpa said, "You're ill."

Highly perceptive, Hiro thought. Even after years apart, your mind remains sharp. "Dying, yes."

"…And you're giving up."

"Because I've decided to stop running. From everything."

"Hiro…" he said softly.

Hiro shrugged. "I'm not scared. Or maybe that's the part of my mind that no longer functions. But I don't feel anything. No fear. Just a sense of peace."

"And Tyson?"

"He doesn't need to know." Tyson was better off not knowing. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, the boy was already used to Hiro entering and exiting his life on multiple occasions. He didn't want Tyson to feel guilty for not being there. "He's suffered enough. If he knew, he'd never think of anything else."

"Is that why you've come here?" His father gestured to the mother's grave. "To apologize?"

"I came here to get away from the noise," Hiro replied, looking around the environment. The graveyard was no larger than the dojo – one of many places scattered throughout the city. "I'd ask the same of you. You could be there with your other son who might I remind you just won the most important battle of his life."

"I came to pay my respects to my wife." He laid down the flowers.

"And ignore Tyson? Funny. You berate me for not being there for him and yet, you weren't there for him either." Hiro snorted, folding his arms. "You're not winning any father of the year awards anytime soon."

"You could just get help."

Hiro gave a sardonic laugh. "No. I decide my fate. I've done what I can. Now it's time to go on my own accord. I won't see you again. All I ask of you is that you watch over Tyson. Even if you can't physically be there, keep him in your thoughts forever. Hold onto that." Without saying another word, Hiro retreated into the darkness.

.

His body had become accustomed to the pain at this point, he no longer noticed it. But the mental anguish was stronger than ever. A body recovered from its wound, but the mind never healed. The sins of the past could not be forgotten so easily. The Lost had taken the shape of Alexander. He was wielding a big knife and hacking away at the table.

"You know what they did to me?" he said.

Kai grimaced. "You're not real."

"I am your mind, Kai."

It was hard to know what was real and what wasn't. He had lost track of time. How many days had passed since the finals? Was anyone even searching for him? How was Tyson progressing? What about the rest of his friends? Rei? Max? Kenny? Hilary? Even Daichi had earned his respect. But even their faces were beginning to become nothing more but a distant memory. His willpower was fading.

"You're trying to break me."

"And I am succeeding." The boy turned around and walked over, holding the knife high above his head. He ran his tongue along the side of the blade then gave Kai a gleeful look. "You let me suffer, Kai. Boris tortured us. The routines were tough. You know they were. But only the strong progressed to the next stage. But you ran."

"I didn't flee like a coward."

"You abandoned us, Kai. You abandoned me and hundreds of other kids like me. You saw what happened to me. You were there. I failed my trials, and I was taken away. I called out your name. If anyone could've stopped them, it was you. But you just watched." His mouth morphed into a scowl. "You left me to suffer. Did you enjoy it?"

Kai growled. "I couldn't save you."

"Like you failed to save the others."

The Lost morphed into Wyatt. "I wanted to be like you. I wanted to earn your respect. But you didn't want me around. You turned me away. I got hurt because of you. I lost my life because of you."

"You should've stopped trying!" Kai spat, trying to free himself of his bindings, but they did not break. The chains held him down. "It's your own damn fault! It's not mine!" It wasn't his fault. Wyatt was obsessed. His own obsession was to blame. His obsession led to his downfall.

"You saying that means you know you're guilty," the Lost snapped back.

"Get out of my head! You're just trying to mess with me. I can see through your illusion!"

Wyatt his head back and laughed. "Whatever happened to all the other people you stepped on and pushed over. Carlos. You remember him? Stuart. Casey. Trevor."

"Carlos was at the tournament."

"But before that. When the Blade Sharks disbanded, you left them with nothing."

Kai yanked at the chains again, but his attempts were futile. "What's your point?"

"You didn't feel guilt. I am you. Those dark emotions that are trapped behind that door of yours in your mind. You've pushed them away and stored them behind that door. When one memory gets out, you feel that guilt. Like Wyatt."

"I never cared about the Blade Sharks. I didn't care about BIOVOLT."

"You used them for your own means. You led over the Blade Sharks because it gave you an inflated sense of power and importance. You could push them around and punish them for their failings and you enjoyed every moment of it." The Lost snickered reverting back to its female form. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun reminiscing."

"What exactly is your goal? If you are my thoughts, then you should already know what I think." She crashed the knife down.

A sharp implosion of pain erupted in his left shoulder. "You're not going to succeed in making me feel guilty. I'm not going to forget who I am. I will never let you win," he hissed.

"You walk all over people. You treat them like doormats. You spent a whole year feeling embarrassed by the Bladebreakers. You didn't want to be too closely associated with them." She ran a finger down the blade's side once more. "They were beneath you. Yet they still believed in you."

"Because they're good people."

"And you are not. Your whole purpose of living is to beat Tyson. What kind of goal is that?"

"He's my rival. He inspires me to become stronger. That's what friends do."

She laughed. "They forgive you repeatedly, but you know you don't deserve their forgiveness. Their love. Their friendship. They would be better off without you in their lives. They don't miss you at all."

"You're wrong."

"I am you. I know your fears. I am your thoughts. Don't lie to yourself."

Kai gritted his teeth. "Are you trying to make me confess? To make me admit I've made mistakes? I've paid my dues."

"You know your friends prefer Tyson over you. If it came down to saving either one of you, they'd save him. Tyson is the person you could never be, but wish you could be, and you know it's true. You're obsessed with Tyson."

"Untrue."

She put the knife away. "You abandoned the team to fight against him. You abandoned the Blitzkrieg Boys to join BEGA. To work for Boris once more despite everything he had put you through for another chance to fight Tyson. All you want to do is fight Tyson. It's pathetic to have your goals in life be defined by the existence of another person." She traipsed a hand across his cheek and ran it down, uttering a laugh as he shuddered.

It wasn't true. He wasn't obsessed with Tyson. Tyson was his rival. His friend too. It made sense to want to become better, but that didn't mean he was obsessed. Did it? Hiro had made the same claim. But should he believe the words of a man who had more loyalty issues than himself? "Shut up," Kai snapped. "Stop talking."

"Black Dranzer. Do you remember the power? You could make the world fall before you."

"I was wrong."

"But you liked that power. It made you strong enough to beat Tyson."

"Black Dranzer lost. The Leviathan minion wasn't strong enough." Black Dranzer was one of the weaker ones. Zeus and Cerberus were stronger. The Four Horsemen were equally as strong. "I'm not going to listen to you."

"You can't shut your own thoughts out, Kai. Don't be silly." She grinned and brought her face close to his, then pressed her lips against his own. He recoiled, as if he had been slapped in the face. She chuckled. "Afraid of a little contact. See how you squirm. Like a worm. Funny."

"I'm going to get out of here and you'll be nothing but a distant memory."

"Distant, but I'll still lurk in the back of your mind always," she said, tapping on her head, a gleeful glint in her eyes. "You can't hide from what you are."

"The past just makes me stronger." He closed his eyes and turned his head away.

Tyson. Don't fail.

.

"What do you want me to say, Rick? That I messed up? Is that what you want to hear?"

Rick put his burrito down and turned to the other American. "I don't need to say anything. You already know what I would say. You can't make her change her mind. You can't change the past. You just have to live with it."

Michael scowled. He thought it would be easier than this. Once he had laughed at the idea of heartbreak as being absurd – how could a heart break anyway? He had scoffed at the stories of people who had claimed it was the worse feeling in the world. But now he understood them. What an ignorant fool he had been to laugh then. Maybe if he had been a little more empathetic in the past, Emily would still be here. Now she was somewhere with Miguel and God knows what they were doing.

"Yeah." That's all he had to say. What was there to say? That he hated it? That he hated this dull ache in his chest? That every breath he took felt harder than the previous one? Is this what people went through? Why bother with love at all if this is how it ended? "The ceremony has been cancelled. It was in the papers," Michael said. Maybe if he tried to think of something else, it would eventually go away.

Rick nodded, picking his burrito up again. "Figures. Several people dead. Lots of them injured. Tyson and his friends won, but at what cost? It's a hollow victory. It would be wrong to cheer."

Playing baseball usually helped him take his mind off things, but the sport was non-existent in New Zealand. People played cricket instead. He was stuck inside the hotel with only Rick for company as Eddy and Steven had gone down the arcade. They had invited him to come along, but he had decided to stay back at the hotel.

"Did you see her before she left?"

"Yeah."

"That's it? Just yeah?" Rick said.

Michael looked at him. "Yeah," he repeated.

"See, that's why she left."

Raising an eyebrow, Michael said, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Because you don't talk."

"I didn't realize you were an expert on these matters."

Rick shrugged. "You underestimate me. See, I learned from my mistakes. When I joined the team, I didn't care about any of your feelings. You were all just chumps to me. But Max helped me understand by talking to me."

"That's Max for you. He likes to talk. It's why the girls love him so much. Have you seen the comments on his fanclub online?"

Rick shuddered. "I'll pass that up. But you're missing the point. I'm saying we don't get anywhere not talking to each other about our issues."

"She never seemed bothered before," Michael murmured.

Rick gave an exasperated sigh. "Because she hadn't cared as deeply then. Words hurt. In most cases, you'll forget about in a day or two, but when it comes from someone you like? Those words stick with you, and they don't go. You don't forget how people have made you feel." Rick helped himself to another burrito from the fridge then sat down on the couch, resting his legs on the table before him.

Michael sighed, sitting down on the other end of the couch. "We don't talk about feelings."

"Maybe you should. It would avoid situations like this."

Michael looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Do you talk about your emotions, Rick?"

"I cried when Bambi's mother died."

"Oh."

"Hey, I'm a sensitive guy," Rick retorted, his hands raised as if to protect himself from an attack. "I just don't show that side often, that's all. Not everyone gets to see that side of me. Emily turned to Miguel. I suppose she thought you'd notice her if she were with someone else. But you didn't."

"But Miguel of all people? He cheated."

"He was being used by Barthez. It's no different from the Demolition Boys and BEGA. Same situation, but different people. They were conned into doing the wrong thing because they weren't left with much choice."

Michael was about to respond when there was a knock on the door. "Did you order room service?"

Rick shook his head. "Nope. Did you?"

"No. Judy would freak out." Michael stood up and walked over to the door. Much to his surprise, Emily was standing outside, and she look hardly recognizable. The girl had traded her glasses for some contact lenses, and her hair was in curls, falling around her shoulders. She was also wearing a strapless red dress. Something he never thought he'd ever see her in. "Emily?"

"Michael."

Rick stood up. "I'm going to search for more burritos. I'll leave you two alone."

"Rick. Wa-" But Rick was already out the door before he could even finish his sentence. Michael glared at Rick's retreating form then shifted his attention to Emily. "Uh, well, you look well," he said, rubbing the back of his right ear, uncertain.

"I was with Miguel."

"Oh," came his simple response. He was still growing accustomed to her appearance.

"Are you going to let me in?"

Pulling out of his trance, he said, "Uh, yeah, come in." He stepped aside and closed the door behind her. "I wasn't expecting you."

She sat down on the bed and stared at the wall. "I thought I'd be happy with Miguel. I should be happy with him. He's perfect." Then, turning her head to him she added, "But all I could think about was you. Curse me for a fool, but it wasn't fair to Miguel to be with him and imagine you in his place instead."

"Emily, I-"

She sprung to her feet and approached him then did something he never would have expected from her. She grabbed his shirt, then pulled him close. Before he could make sense of what was happening, she was on her tip toes, and draping her arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to hers.

The next few seconds happened so quickly that his mind struggled to make sense of it all. She was kissing him. Longing. Passion. All in one sudden kiss. Then he had his arms around her waist, responding eagerly. Somehow, they had swapped positions and she was the one up against the wall. He felt her hands slide beneath his shirt.

That's when the door flew open.

"Just remember, kids. Be safe!" Rick winked and laughed as he closed the door again.

Emily pulled back, flustered, breathing heavily. "…How did he jump to that conclusion?"

Michael just scowled at the door. "…Kids? He's only a year older than me."

"What now?" she said, running a finger across her lower lip.

"Well… We kinda already do things a lot of people do when they're dating." They had already spent a lot of time together already. Judy said it was good for team bonding.

"Hm, yes, but we do those things with the others too." She grabbed his shirt again. With a wry grin she said, "Something we can do. Just us. More intimate that way."

"Oh?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Jumping that far ahead already?"

She rolled her eyes. "Intimate doesn't always mean sex, Michael."

"I know. I just… I didn't mean it like that." He paused then said, "I don't want to make a mess of things. It was hard enough to get to this point."

"I didn't know you were so insecure," she teased. "Where's that cocky bravado?"

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "I thought I got over that phase years ago."

"Confidence is attractive you know." Her grin widened.

"Well, in that case…" he drawled, wrapping an arm around her lithe waist. This time, he initiated the kiss. She responded in kind, rewarding him with a slight moan. Again, he felt one of her hands sneak up his shirt. "I don't think that would be wise," he said, placing a hand on hers, and pushing it away.

"Showing self-restraint? Impressive."

"Just. But I wouldn't want to rush into something that we'd later regret." Maybe she was just acting out her depression over the Miguel meeting. It would explain why she had just thrown herself at him in an overly passionate manner. He didn't want to take advantage of that. "Not after everything. Besides, here in a shared hotel room? Our teammates could walk in anytime."

Somewhat disappointed, Emily sat down on the bed. "That's true. I guess… We take it slow."

"I can do that."

"We start over. Like we barely know each other."

"Okay, weird, but okay."

She grinned. "It'll be fun."

Maybe love was worth the pain after all?

.

Bryan walked down the chilly streets his hands buried deep in his pockets. The unmissable golden arches of McDonalds was just a few metres up the road. He walked across the well-lit street, keeping a healthy distance from passing strangers, ignoring their looks. It seemed people did recognize him but were too intimidated to ask for autographs.

He stepped through the doors of the fast-food restaurant, drawing in a deep breath, and savouring the scent of burger grease and fries. His stomach growled as his eyes focused on the juicy burgers in the menu boards. Yum.

"…Careful, Bryan. I might have to mistake your mouth for a flytrap with the way you're standing there with your mouth hanging wide open." A feminine voice. Ming Ming.

Startled, Bryan jumped, earning a light-hearted chuckle from Ming Ming. He looked down. "Don't you know you shouldn't creep up on people like that?"

"I think there's a bit of drool on your chin. Stand still."

"There's no drool on my-"

Ming Ming reached out with a tissue and rubbed his chin. "I've never seen anyone look at a burger so affectionately before." She walked over to a bin and discarded the tissue inside then walked back. "Where's the rest of your team? Practicing their tough-guy routines still?"

"They are watching Lord of the Rings," Bryan explained. "The big battle is about to happen at Helms Deep. They're going to wait for me to return. You can't miss this scene."

She raised an eyebrow. "Never took you for a fantasy fan. Thought you'd be more into cars and gangs. Tough-guy things you know." She placed a hand on her hip, and tilted her head to the side, looking at him as if he had something strange growing on his face.

Bryan pulled away from the queue line. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Same as you. Looking for cheap food for a quick fix. Brooklyn and Mystel are out for the night – so it's just me with Garland and Crusher. Don't get me wrong; I love them with all my heart, but they're both so serious."

"And you thought coming to McDonalds would make things better?"

She shrugged. "I feel at home. I used to work at a fast-food store until Boris found me."

The poor girl. Being stuck with Garland and Crusher did sound boring. No wonder she had come here of all places. "Well…" He ran a finger across his lower lip, trying to decide whether he should invite her or not. Would she want to hang out with his team for the night and watch movies? It wasn't as if she was a stranger to male company.

"Yes, Bryan?"

He rubbed the back of his right ear. "Do you want to spend the night at our motel? We're just down the road. It's a short walk. We're just going to watch movies. It's not like you haven't met my teammates yet."

The corners of her mouth curved into a grin. "Oh, a movie date at your motel."

"A date?" Bryan's eyes widened. He shook his hands. "No, no! Not a date."

She chuckled. "I'm just joking, Bryan. I've never seen you look so terrified before. It's kinda cute. Like a puppy dog." She winked.

An odd sensation spread throughout his body. Something foreign. It was a tingly sensation, but not the unpleasant type that you got when your limbs were turning numb. It was the same feeling he had gotten when she had cleaned the apparent drool of his chin, or had that been a reason to touch him? But why would someone want to touch him? "Well. I should order." There was a burning sensation in his ears now.

"Of course, I'll wait here."

He was about to walk up to the counter then stopped to face her once more. "Um. Have you ordered already? I mean. I'm sure Tala won't mind if I buy you something too. It'll be strange otherwise if we're eating and you're not eating," he said. Oh, he was glad the boys weren't here. He'd never hear the end of it. So much for being the calm and in control Bryan, he thought.

She was still grinning from ear to ear. "You're a very odd person, Bryan."

"I get told that a lot. Anyway. I will order food now." Before he could further embarrass himself, he joined the queue, moving his hair so it covered his ears. He hoped she hadn't noticed. His only saving grace was that his face didn't burn up too much when he was embarrassed.

"Hi, how can I help you?" the serving lady said. She was also smiling. Had she been watching?

"I'll get the family meal. But upgrade to a large size."

"What burgers would you like?"

"Uh, just all double cheeseburgers."

"And what drinks?"

"Coke."

"It won't be long. Just tap your card here," she said, pushing forward the eftpos machine.

Bryan pressed his travel card against the machine. All bladers competing in the tournament had a special card for funds. The machine accepted his money, and Bryan stashed his card in his pocket. He rejoined Ming Ming. "I hope you like cheeseburgers because that's what I ordered."

"That's fine." Silence fell. Never had he imagined he'd be standing in a fast-food store exchanging pleasant conversation with Ming Ming of all people. Unsettled by the long silence, Bryan cleared his throat and spoke. "This is nice. Talking to other bladers outside a tournament. We don't really get a chance to socialize."

She smiled. "We should keep in touch. You'll probably be heading back home in a few days… I don't know where we are going to after, but it won't be Russia." She pulled out her phone and handed it to him. "Put your number in. Maybe we can chat online or something."

"I'd like that." He accepted her phone and entered his number then returned it.

"Number ninety-eight!'

"Oh. That's me." Bryan walked over to the counter to collect his order.

The cashier winked at him. "She was checking you out."

Disturbed, Bryan quickly took his order then joined Ming Ming again. Was she really checking him out? He smirked, and pinned his shoulders back, puffing out his chest to appear more masculine. If she was impressed, she kept it to herself, but he swore he saw her smile widen. The night suddenly seemed more enticing.