"I see London, I see France, I see that hoe’s underpants." I hear some dweeb in a convertible below sneer, staring up my skirt. I frown, looking down and spitting in the general direction of the cat call.

"Hey that’s not cool; I bet that girl could clock you from here to Kaiba Corp." Another retorts.

"And why is that?" the first person yells.

"Because you can’t defend yourself from a trading card!" the second boy snaps. I guess there must be a traffic jam going on down there. Or a red light. I barely travel on the bellow roads.

"Hey I can’t help it if Marik Ishtar is creepy as hell!" the first person defends.

"Say that to his face I dare you." I hiss, very sure that they won’t hear me.

"Guys shut up, it’s Hadley Stevens." I hear the familiar sound of Sexy Back being played. It’s Duke Devlin. My cheeks burn. Duke Devlin is looking up my skirt. What a day to wear a skirt!

"You okay up there Hadley?" I hear a woman shriek in delight. From what I can see, it looks to be a sadistic mother of a duellist I beat in Battle City, I wonder if she wants me to fall. And if not she might heckle at the press conference.

"Mala!" Akefia shouts.

"I’m okay." I assure.

"Let us pull you up." he insists, leaning over the rail, reaching to grab my hand. I reach to grab his hand but I’m too far away. My arms ache as I hang.

"I’ll go get help." Marik grins with glee spotting something and rushing away as quickly as he can.

"Mala! Grab on!" Akefia yelps, tossing a rope down. I take a hold of it only for another sharp wind to have me hit the bridge with my stomach, alarmed I let go and fall into the chaotic motorway below…