Coach A

Isadora shivered from the cold of the early morning. She felt the dryness in her throat as she trudged up the many stairs and passages up to Vincent's chambers.

When she had pulled that stunt on the B Division's grounds, she had thought of a thousand outcomes; practice with her captor wasn't one of them. Either way, she is neck deep in this ruse and there is no way out of it.

Upon seeing Isadora, the guards made way for her, neither speaking to her nor directly letting her in themselves.

Standing in front of Vincent's doors, Isadora gulped. That motion reintroduced her to the metal choker on her neck and suddenly all the confidence she managed to gather on her way up, flew out to the wind.

She took a deep breath in and out… slowly her right hand raised forming a fist to come in contact with the door,

It barely grazed the door before it swung open, Isadora's hair moved with the breeze from the sharp door swing.

Her body moved aside and automatically put itself in a low bow, and her ey