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I flicked the light switch out of habit more than anything else as I headed out of the bathroom and for the door. The power had gone off sometime over the summer. It was kind of like camping inside the house.
Bingsoo followed, toddling along on his short little legs. I scratched him behind his ears, offering him a cocky smirk I didn’t feel. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I swiped the change I’d left carefully counted on the kitchen counter into my hand, dropping it into the pocket of my jeans before I stepped out into the balmy evening air. There were only a few blocks and a subway ride between me and the games.
I just hoped I was ready to play.
Kohl
Well, well, well. What delectable little treat do we have here?
“Let me help you,” Dylan said as he turned toward us, walking backward like he had the day he, Vic, and I had gone to the amusement park together. The sky was dark, the only thing lighting up the park were the dim lights splashed around the park. Every so often the bright blue lights of a screen would light up as we passed showing off our blood stained uniforms.
Careless idiot.
Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if a fucking murder game was where my brother was most comfortable. He’d grown up with the Legacy title and all the douchebaggery that came with it.
His mask was back on, making it appear to the viewers that we were twins. We weren’t that far apart in age, but being compared to him was one of my pet peeves.
It was fucking insulting. I was twice as smart as him, and I had it onextremelygood authority that I was a better lay too.
As we walked, I just couldn’t get over just howstupidhe was. I’d never have guessed he cared enough about ourfamily’s imagethat he’d take it upon himself to enter the games asecond time.
It just didn’t make sense.
Even for Legacies, entering the games once was enough. Before the games, it was easy to buy into the fucked up fantasy that led us to believe that we could make it to the top without suffering from the crippling PTSD every player before us came out with. Only realize when we left that it was too late, we were going to be just as fucked up as our parents.
Stuck huddled in a bathtub, the screams of victims echoing on a loop like this fucking fair music, that’s when we’d realize we’d made a mistake. Of course, that was if we made it out at all.
Most did, but not because of their skills.
Because of the millions of viewers that were watching them. Sending them gifts and supporting their stream. Those who had parents in the Inner Circle—the elite, even above the Architects—were even luckier. There was no way anyone in the Inner Circle would stand by as their Legacy died in front of the world.
It was a disgrace and would make their family a laughingstock for years to come.
Evenmyviews were going up by the tens of thousands every few minutes, no doubt because everyone had clued into which family Dylan and I came from.
I really hated when he was right.
“I don’t need your help,” I said with a huff. The ‘nice brother’ act he was trying to feed the cameras was even more irritating than if he’d just shown his true colors. I wished that switch of his would flip so everyone watching would see what a monster he truly was.
I should’ve known that I couldn’t avoid my family for too long. They would find me, no matter what. Because to them, I was just another pawn in their game to use when they saw fit.
I could sense the disapproval radiating off him, even behind the mask.
I knew what he envisioned. He wanted the world to start tuning in. To look at thetwoWolff children joining together to kill the less privileged and completely terrified Ghosts.
If we did well, it would be talked about foryears. Our children’s children would see our faces plastered in their textbooks and be forced to watch the highlights of this match as we killed for a chance at a big payout.
They would learn from Dylan. Take note of how he got my stream from ninety thousand to three hundred thousand in less than thirty minutes.
This was just how life worked. No use getting angry over something I couldn’t control.
Or at least that’s what I tried to force myself to think. In reality, I was hanging by a thread of patience worn thin like an overstretched rubber band. A single crumb of pressure more, and I was fit tosnap.
“Did you forget I’ve already done this once before?” he called, spreading his arms wide and turning around to look out at the park.
I followed his motion, catching a Hider and their Seeker weaving through the booths to the far right of us. The others didn’t pay them any attention.
