7 | Catfight

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Episode 7-14 is still unedited and might create conflict of information throughout the following episodes.

***

King held his head with his hand as he examined the enormous room, wooden, yet gleaming with the sense of extravagance. He stared at the large mirror above the walnut dresser on the opposite wall of where his bed stood, eyeing his bruised face and slightly sore eyes.

Luckily, the night scouts came across them while patrolling last night, and now here they were, back in their pridehouse — the place he used to call home.

King was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and had partially grown up being trained and instructed as their pride's, in truth and ironically, King. He laughed at that idea. Not because it was hilarious, but because he thought it was ridiculous that he had been named after a title supposed to be addressed to the leader of a bunch of pussies.

Yes, King was supposed to be the next in line, not Axel, not anyone. But that was all until his father decided to make Hugh, Axel's dad, sit on that high chair before he died. Now King lives in the city full of highrise buildings, doing a part-time job on the coffeeshop uptown Manhattan to help his Aunt and partly support his studies.

He rubbed his head and sighed, waiting for Pandora and Bryce, who had gone down for a talk with none other than Hugh. King implied joining, but they refused him, telling him to rest rather than concern himself with something a bit stressful just yet. He pursed his lips, feeling ashamed that he was the one who most needed to be tended upon the three of them. But it was logical; he wasn't as durable as a pure-breed. And he felt relieved at the idea that both his cousins were doing fine.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and King's head snapped to the side. A guy stood right by the door, carrying a tray table with a bowl of soup. He wore a tank top, had bleached-blonde hair and piercings on his ears. Tattoos ran down his athletic arms. King didn't recognize him, but the sense of something familiar struck like a static wave. The guy was starting to look casual in his mind, then the cork popped, and his eyes widened. The guy was Vance — the brunette kid that always followed him.

Vance's lips curled into a smile. "My bad. I forgot to knock."

King shrugged, shuffling on his position. The last time he saw him was when Vance was eleven, bawling his eyes out, begging them not to leave. He had some family issues, and King was one of the few people who brought him solace. They got along well, and he looked up to him. That was when he was still in the pride. King didn't know better now.

"I brought you food. Can you eat already?"

"Y-yeah... Of course," King replied, feeling a little awkward and guilty.

"How are you feeling?" Vance paced towards him.

"Better. The pain is almost gone." King tapped his gauze-wrapped shin. There was an unpleasant tingling sensation, but it wasn't a big deal. He managed a ton of crap thrown at him last night, after all.

Vance nodded his head. He stared at the bowl in his hand and stared back at King, smiling. "That's good. Here," he said as he handed him the tray.

Just when King reached for the handle on both sides of the tray, he shoved it, spilling the soup all over the latter. There were loud sounds that snapped through the air when the tray hit the floor, followed by the utensils clunking and the sound of the bowl rolling underneath the bed.

King looked at Vance, his torso drenched, yet his eyes seemed to drift into blank space, not registering what the latter did. But at the edge of his mind, something was screaming at him that this prick just did what he just damn did.

"Whoops." Vance's smile turned into a high-arched smirk. He bent down to pick up the utensils. "How'd it feel to be out of the hole, King?" When he stood up, he dully stared at King, who was still awfully quiet.

"Are you mute now?" Vance spat. He twirled the spoon on his fingers, and when King still didn't reply, he leaned his face closer to him, examining the reddening face of the other man. Vance grinned at the reaction he managed to make.

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh? You know, I remember you used to tell me how much you hated her, but now that I think of it, you aren't too different from your mom—"

That was all it took for King to snap. In a sudden, his right arm pulled back, and he slammed it into Vance's cheek.

Vance accidentally bit his tongue. "Motherf—!"

King bolted up, stepping into the spill on the floor, but he was too fixated at the yellow-haired brat to give a fuck.

Vance staggered back, and before he could catch his balance, King body-slammed him on the ground. Faster, he got on top of King first and began to send blows directed on his face. King tried to block it all, but one went straight onto his face.

Grinding his jaw, he patched both his feet and kicked Vance hard onto the stomach. Vance's arm wobbled, and he pulled him, causing the latter to crash down on his side. King retaliated fast by rolling on top of him.

Using his hand to pin the guy below him, King clenched his other fist and sent it straight onto his face. Vance shielded his face with crossed arms, gritting his teeth on the process.

"King! Vance! Stop it!" someone yelled, but it was static for King. Everything for him was a blur, and the only thing he saw was red.

"I said, stop it!"

Unconsciously, King wrapped his hands around Vance's neck. And without knowing it, he started choking the air out of him.

"King! Stop!" someone shrieked.

Another guy then pulled him off of Vance before he could go worse. King tried to escape the clutch, but the person that held him had wrapped and locked his forearms on the boy's neck and chest, keeping him from attacking the other boy in front of him.

"King," the man whispered, "calm down."

There was a chill that crawled down on King's body, and reality doomed back on him. Suddenly, he was back in his room, people crowding in on both of them. They helped Vance sit up, who was holding his neck, bruised, coughing, and glaring at King like he wanted to kill him at that very second.

King's attention, on the other hand, was already spiking behind him. He turned his head, and his eyes widened as he stared back on Axel's blue eyes. Immediately, he swatted his arms away. Axel tried to hold him back, thinking he was still on it.

"I'm done!" King snapped.

The blonde man narrowed his eyes on him but darted it then towards Vance, who seemed more willing to continue.

"Just keep that bastard away. I'm itching to break his fucking jaw."

"Nenorocitule. I could say the same thing," Vance snapped, inching towards King. The other members held him back.

"Vance, get out," Axel commanded.

The latter looked at Axel for a moment, then back at King. An annoying sneer replaced his gritted teeth.

"Very well, King Axel," he snorted.

Vance unrestrainedly bumped into King on his way out, not failing to glare at him for the last time. King glared back. The only thing that was probably missing in on that scene was electric and thunders booming and sparking on the background. King could feel that this wouldn't be the last time that it'd happen.







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