EIGHT

DAMON

"You have never heard of us?" The middle of his forehead quickly wore a frown before he sharply pulled his hands off the chair and stood upright. My nose scrunched in reaction to his disturbing perfume.

After making a clicking noise with his mouth, he folded his arms, gazed right into my eyes, and asked, "How could you have never heard of The Pretties? We made quite an entry this year."

"What do you guys do? Put on dresses and try out new lipsticks? Are you a fashion company of some sort?"

My voice was so calm and I became worried for myself.

Excusing the flamboyant appearance of the man in front of me, it was clear that they were one of the gangs that bothered the streets of the country.

But, no, I have never heard about them.

The name 'The Pretties' didn't sound familiar.

But then, I don't exactly pay much attention to the affairs of the nation. I have enough problems to deal with.

My ears caught the stifled chuckles from one of the men at the entrance. Mr. Pretty was