AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Um… yeah?” Larkin’s brow wrinkled in confusion, then it cleared when he looked at me as I stood from the couch. “Oh. Yeah. Totally. Everyone’s done with the… costume change. Thing.”
Holt eyed him intently. “Are you sure, Larkin?”
“Um, yeah. I’m totally sure.” Larkin didn’t sound all that sure.
“Fine.” Holt sighed and turned to give me a small smile. “Ready?”
“Yep. Yes.” I nodded quickly. I was kind of nervous for some reason, but I was ready to watch grappling oiled-up beefcakes. I’d never been more ready. My four-year dry spell would probably make my earlier shower jerk completely obsolete. There was no way I wasn’t going to get at least a chub while I watched this.
I’d just have to sit with my legs crossed.
Chapter Eleven
Corey and Cora
Holt’s private box wasn’t all that big, but it had pretty much a panoramic view of the enormous room below us.
I couldn’t freaking believe this was just… under the office. It looked way bigger than the perimeter of the building, but Holt had said he also owned the one next door, so I was guessing this took up all the space beneath both of them.
A standard wrestling ring was situated in the centre of the arena. Rows and rows of bleachers surrounded it on three sides, with long walkways between them that I was guessing the wrestlers used to make their grand entrances.
A big bar was against the far wall, with an enormous Goliaths of Wrestling neon sign behind it, casting a hot pink and lime green glow over the crowd gathered in front of it. Dangling above the wrestling ring, among all the exposed pipes, was a cage.
Cage matches, fuck yeah, I thought with excitement as Holt and I sat down on the plush, hot pink sofa with small tables either side. There were more seats at the back of the box, and Larkin flopped into one and immediately plugged the charger he’d brought with him into an outlet.
“Taylor, would you like a drink?” Holt asked, but I was too busy scanning the crowd below us to answer at first.
Everyone was in some kind of costume, most of which were mind-blowing. A bunch of people in business suits by the bar were dressed as werewolves, for god’s sake. And somehow, the heads were moving and emoting like real faces. They could even smile. I watched them all laugh at something, then tip their drinks into their long snouts. Furry tails poked out the backs of their pants. They actually wagged.
That was crazy. They must’ve spent a fortune on animatronic features in their costumes.
I couldn’t see a single person with a regular skin tone. It was a sea of greens and blues and purples and pinks, a few greys like Holt, and a couple of obsidian black that seemed to glitter under the lights. Some people had huge, pointed prosthetic ears, animatronic tails that swished from side to side and long acrylic claws stuck on their fingernails. One guy had a third eye stuck to the centre of his forehead that actually swivelled.
Another had to have a smoke machine hidden somewhere on his person, because plumes of ethereal purple smoke seemed to be coming from his back as he glided toward the bleachers. A group of tall, slender women with brightly coloured hair had freaking wings that actually fluttered and twitched as they talked excitedly among themselves in their seats. They were beautiful insectoid wings, gossamer thin and gleaming with jewel tones. They must’ve cost a fucking fortune.
“This is so cool,” I breathed, scooting right to the edge of the couch so I could see better.
It was amazing. Holt had been right—it was a real community of people who just happened to be extremely passionate about both cosplaying and wrestling. And how awesome that they had this place to indulge in both at the same time. I could see why it was so exclusive now. Holt had obviously spent a lot of time and money on this place, and I doubted he would want anyone coming in who would ruin the vibe. Everyone down there seemed so relaxed and at ease, but excited too. There was palpable electricity in the air that I could feel even from up here.
“Glad you like it.”
I finally tore my gaze away to look at Holt. He still looked kind of tense and nervous, but he gave me a genuine smile.
I grinned back. “It’s amazing. I can’t believe how cool the costumes are.”
“Uh, yeah, they really go all out.” Holt cleared his throat and asked again, “Would you like a drink?”
“Oh. Sorry. Um, sure.”
He stood. “Water, soda, juice…?”
I hadn’t had soda for a long time—Marcus hadn’t liked it—so I defiantly said, “Soda. Please.”
“I’ll have a soda too,” Larkin called from his sprawled position on the other sofa as he stared down at his phone.
Holt huffed as he crossed to the minifridge at the side of the room. “You’re supposed to be my assistant.”
Larkin waved a hand, not looking up from his phone. “Yeah, but you’re already over there.”
