Fight or Flight
IV.
My clammy hand shakily wraps around the door’s handle as I give it a quick tug. Why are you so nervous? You’ve been here before – it’s nothing new. The heel of my boot crushes down against the tiny shards of gravel as I slip into the crowded warehouse behind a group of guys. I take in the familiarity of my surroundings as everyone’s watching the fight before the fight. Justin was a part of the main event, the returning champion. The same man was surrounded by the same thick cloud of hazy smoke at the top, in his royal throne. Some woman sat on his lap, peppering his neck with kisses. A cool shiver runs down my spine as the two of us make eye contact. The main event was bound to start any minute. Several drunks shove their way to the front of the crowd. I could hear them exchanging bets for the fight. Majority betting on Justin of course. Apparently, he’s never lost a fight. I squeeze in front of some man making out with his girlfriend, not bothering to even glance around. The room erupts with cheers as the first fight is finished.
Let’s give it up for your hometown hero – Justin ‘Stone and a Sling’ Bieber
A short man with a microphone calls out and the room erupts yet again with cheers. Justin makes his way into the circle, dressing in black shorts with his hands wrapped tightly some kind of black tape. My eyes get lost in the warm brown eyes in front of me. He offers a coy head nod before directing his attention on the giant dragging his weight into the circle.
Someone’s eager! Let’s hear it for Bobby ‘Crimson’ Beaker
Crimson, just like his shorts. Cute. I hold my breath as the bell signals the start of the fight. The two intensely eye each other, both waiting for the other to make their move. Crimson swings a large arm towards Justin, which he gracefully dodges. Justin lands a solid blow to his face but it doesn’t seem to faze him whatsoever. Crimson smacks his own chest wildly, almost pumping himself for the next hit. Justin attempts to land a few punches through his torso but Crimson swallows each and every one. No matter what combination Justin tried, Crimson stood his ground. The only thing Justin could do was duck and dodge his hits. I could tell the audience was getting annoyed – Justin couldn’t hurt him and Crimson couldn’t touch him. Until he did. Crimson finally connects his massive fist to Justin’s jaw. Justin’s head goes back sickeningly. Justin touches his face with the back of his wrist, revealing the familiar crimson color. I started to wonder if Crimson’s name was from the color of his shorts or something else. The room shakes with applause at a sudden sign of action. Crimson instantly starts to hit Justin over and over. Justin dodges the punch that I assume would’ve ended it all. Justin staggers a few feet back to collect himself. He throws his shoulders back before going in for more. He keeps his head down as he repeatedly collides his fist into Crimson’s torso, breaking him down with every hit.
‘C’mon Justin!’ I shout out unintentionally through cupped hands, ‘Finish it!’
And he does. Crimson goes down with a thud and the onlookers rush Justin. The air returns to my lungs as I finally could breathe again. I decide to slip back towards the locker room to wait until the celebration dies down. Justin slowly eases to the bench and slides down onto it. ‘I’m gonna feel that in the morning.’
‘You were so good.’ I gush, folding my arms over one another as I walk over to sit on the bench by his feet, ‘Actually I think good might be a bit of an insult after that.’
‘Thank you.’ He stifles out a laugh, lazily attempting to pull the bandage from his knuckles. I could already see the many bruises forming against the ink that covered his skin. His lip was split and his right eye was nearly shut.
‘Need help?’ I question extending a hand out to him.
He wordlessly holds his arm up in the air, signaling a yes. I tug gently at the bandage, carefully unwinding it. He groans slightly as he shifts over against the cool metal bench.
‘Sorry.’
‘Not you, that huge ass prick.’
‘Did you expect him to not give it his all?’ I smirk over at him while moving towards his other hand.
‘Smartass.’ Justin laughs, shielding his chest with his free hand.
‘Stone and a Sling? Like David, right? Is it because you’re so much smaller than the people you go up against?’
‘I didn’t come up with it,’ he defends, ‘Justin David Bieber, didn’t sound too good either. I don’t really care, as long as I get paid.’
I wait for Justin as he changes into a black tee shirt and black sweats. He looked good in black. Really good. Just like before, he stops to talk to the same man with the bad comb-over. He hands Justin a white envelope, with even more money in it than the last. He wraps a hairy arm around the woman who sat on his lap earlier and leads her into a back room. I watch as the two laugh their way into the room before he quickly closes the blinds. The last mental image I needed was that man doing anything sexual. ‘So, are you in the mood for waffles?’
‘I am always in the mood for waffles, David.’
‘You are really never gonna let me live that down, are you?’
‘Not a chance.’
‘I might have to reconsider inviting you to these things.’ Justin taunts as he gets down into his shiny Mustang.
Miss. Lu was pouring coffee for a booth of men when we came into the diner. She gasps lightly at the appearance of Justin as she wraps her tiny arms around his torso. ‘You’ve seen me worse.’ Justin cutely lowers himself to her level, ‘Nothing that my usual can’t fix.’
‘Alright, just go sit down and I’ll be right back. Nice to see you again Olivia.’
‘You too.’ I chime sliding down into the booth across from him, ‘How long have you known her?’ I nudge my chin towards Miss. Lu who was talking in the kitchen with the head cook.
‘I actually use to work here.’ Justin replies, shaking his jacket from his arms, ‘busboy.’
‘Why don’t you anymore?’
‘Between class, working here, and what I do at night – you could say that my plate got a little crowded. ‘Plus, I get paid better for my nightlife.’ Justin cockily smiles at me while patting his pocket.
‘One of your eyes is actually closed right now.’ I remind him, resting my hands under my chin.
‘Hey, I won, right?’
‘You’re really something else aren’t you, Bieber?’
‘You have no idea.’
Let’s give it up for your hometown hero – Justin ‘Stone and a Sling’ Bieber
A short man with a microphone calls out and the room erupts yet again with cheers. Justin makes his way into the circle, dressing in black shorts with his hands wrapped tightly some kind of black tape. My eyes get lost in the warm brown eyes in front of me. He offers a coy head nod before directing his attention on the giant dragging his weight into the circle.
Someone’s eager! Let’s hear it for Bobby ‘Crimson’ Beaker
Crimson, just like his shorts. Cute. I hold my breath as the bell signals the start of the fight. The two intensely eye each other, both waiting for the other to make their move. Crimson swings a large arm towards Justin, which he gracefully dodges. Justin lands a solid blow to his face but it doesn’t seem to faze him whatsoever. Crimson smacks his own chest wildly, almost pumping himself for the next hit. Justin attempts to land a few punches through his torso but Crimson swallows each and every one. No matter what combination Justin tried, Crimson stood his ground. The only thing Justin could do was duck and dodge his hits. I could tell the audience was getting annoyed – Justin couldn’t hurt him and Crimson couldn’t touch him. Until he did. Crimson finally connects his massive fist to Justin’s jaw. Justin’s head goes back sickeningly. Justin touches his face with the back of his wrist, revealing the familiar crimson color. I started to wonder if Crimson’s name was from the color of his shorts or something else. The room shakes with applause at a sudden sign of action. Crimson instantly starts to hit Justin over and over. Justin dodges the punch that I assume would’ve ended it all. Justin staggers a few feet back to collect himself. He throws his shoulders back before going in for more. He keeps his head down as he repeatedly collides his fist into Crimson’s torso, breaking him down with every hit.
‘C’mon Justin!’ I shout out unintentionally through cupped hands, ‘Finish it!’
And he does. Crimson goes down with a thud and the onlookers rush Justin. The air returns to my lungs as I finally could breathe again. I decide to slip back towards the locker room to wait until the celebration dies down. Justin slowly eases to the bench and slides down onto it. ‘I’m gonna feel that in the morning.’
‘You were so good.’ I gush, folding my arms over one another as I walk over to sit on the bench by his feet, ‘Actually I think good might be a bit of an insult after that.’
‘Thank you.’ He stifles out a laugh, lazily attempting to pull the bandage from his knuckles. I could already see the many bruises forming against the ink that covered his skin. His lip was split and his right eye was nearly shut.
‘Need help?’ I question extending a hand out to him.
He wordlessly holds his arm up in the air, signaling a yes. I tug gently at the bandage, carefully unwinding it. He groans slightly as he shifts over against the cool metal bench.
‘Sorry.’
‘Not you, that huge ass prick.’
‘Did you expect him to not give it his all?’ I smirk over at him while moving towards his other hand.
‘Smartass.’ Justin laughs, shielding his chest with his free hand.
‘Stone and a Sling? Like David, right? Is it because you’re so much smaller than the people you go up against?’
‘I didn’t come up with it,’ he defends, ‘Justin David Bieber, didn’t sound too good either. I don’t really care, as long as I get paid.’
I wait for Justin as he changes into a black tee shirt and black sweats. He looked good in black. Really good. Just like before, he stops to talk to the same man with the bad comb-over. He hands Justin a white envelope, with even more money in it than the last. He wraps a hairy arm around the woman who sat on his lap earlier and leads her into a back room. I watch as the two laugh their way into the room before he quickly closes the blinds. The last mental image I needed was that man doing anything sexual. ‘So, are you in the mood for waffles?’
‘I am always in the mood for waffles, David.’
‘You are really never gonna let me live that down, are you?’
‘Not a chance.’
‘I might have to reconsider inviting you to these things.’ Justin taunts as he gets down into his shiny Mustang.
Miss. Lu was pouring coffee for a booth of men when we came into the diner. She gasps lightly at the appearance of Justin as she wraps her tiny arms around his torso. ‘You’ve seen me worse.’ Justin cutely lowers himself to her level, ‘Nothing that my usual can’t fix.’
‘Alright, just go sit down and I’ll be right back. Nice to see you again Olivia.’
‘You too.’ I chime sliding down into the booth across from him, ‘How long have you known her?’ I nudge my chin towards Miss. Lu who was talking in the kitchen with the head cook.
‘I actually use to work here.’ Justin replies, shaking his jacket from his arms, ‘busboy.’
‘Why don’t you anymore?’
‘Between class, working here, and what I do at night – you could say that my plate got a little crowded. ‘Plus, I get paid better for my nightlife.’ Justin cockily smiles at me while patting his pocket.
‘One of your eyes is actually closed right now.’ I remind him, resting my hands under my chin.
‘Hey, I won, right?’
‘You’re really something else aren’t you, Bieber?’
‘You have no idea.’
♠ ♠ ♠
Hi! Hope you enjoyed chapter four and I just want to quickly say that I have been trying to manage my classes which is why I haven't been able to update as much as I would like to but now, I hope that I have a better handle on it so I can update more regularly. Feel free to leave a comment, subscribe, and recommend the story. Thank you!