Chapitre 62: The Boston Fight

I stare at him, and long frissons of nervous energy rip through me. Seth bounces on his toes, not paying any attention to the chaos surrounding him.

And it surrounds him.

The tall, foreboding cage is his only protection against an onslaught of rabid fans and haters alike. I don't know how he does it, how he can shut it all out and not crumble under the scrutiny, or the pressure. His intro music rebounds around the arena, lifting the fine hairs on the back of my neck. Excitement crackles in the air and I taste it on my tongue. It makes my skin crawl.

It makes me salivate.