Living With The Player

DYLAN EMERTON

FRIDAY.

“What else did you do?”

She drools the next few terms and then clears a breath.

“Dylan?”

“I’m here. I just need a minute.”

I inhale, drawing as much air in as I could.

“I hung back and watched the fight that day when instead I should’ve gotten my cycle and driven home…”

MONTHS AGO.

Harper took his first hit a minute into the fight. You can imagine how many hits the other guy has been getting since then. Harper moves like a skilled ninja.

If I believed in superpowers or that shit, I would think had telepathy. He foresaw his opponent’s moves.

And the other guy was bulky. Harper was near twice his size, yet Harper didn’t have a scratch on his face until some seconds ago, but the other guy?

He had a broken nose and that arm will need serious icing. The strange part is that none of them had gone down yet. What’s even stranger is how my eyes can’t blink or look away. I’m that invested.

When it started, I flinched twice, but since then I’m grinning. I have to bite my tongue not to cheer with the rest of them.

Blood. So much blood. So much pain. I want it. I want more.

Harper makes a contract and shoots a wink. It clicks. He sees it in my eyes as well.

I understand him. Why does he believes we’re such a good match? I’m considering it too.

“Ugh!”

A series of groans erupt around me. I look back and the man has Harper down on his face, twirling his left hand behind his head.

You’d think Harper would wince or be on the brink of tears from the amount of pain he’s in, but no. Harper is chuckling. Part of his face hides, but I can break out a smirk anywhere.

Someone rings a bell, and they drift apart. His opponent shoots both hands in the air and yells while everyone cheers.

I can’t stop looking. I won’t.

Harper lost, but he’s smiling. One hand looks livid by his waist. His eyes are bloodshot, but he’s still grinning.

I’m left to wonder how good it must feel. My eyes glisten with curiosity and I want to try it out myself.

**

PRESENT.

“Wow.”

Cam gasps, batting both lashes and then pulling her bottom lip into her mouth.

“What happened next?”

She slid a pillow behind her head, arching back to get more comfortable.

“Everything.”

I whisper as more copies flood in. Images I’ve suppressed for so long.

**Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

MONTHS AGO.

“Why are you happy since you lost?”

“You won’t understand D, it’s animating.”

His eyes shimmer with delight, and a twisted sneer makes its way back to his lips.

“I can only imagine.”

“Maybe you don’t have to. They’re setting up another round. We could enlist.”

“I don’t assume I’m cut out for fighting. I’d lose too. I’d be down in one minute flat.”

Amid such a large crowd, Harper grabs his knee like last time and laughs even harder.

“Winning isn’t everything sometimes. What if I told you I lost on purpose?”

He smirks.

Harper did fight in the beginning. I turned away for one minute and Harper was down on the ground.

“Why would you lose on purpose?”

A tiny flicker of emotion flipped past his lids, so quickly that I couldn’t pin it down.

“Well D, maybe I enjoy being taken down on my ass. Pain is good. If I’m feeling enough pain in my body, I won’t feel any in other places.”

He stares straight at me. I’ve never related to someone’s words as I have to what Harper just said to me. Which is why I don’t give two fucks or think my next words through. I simply say them.

“How do I get into a fight?”

**

PRESENT.

“You joined?”

Camilla turns her upper body, the pillow shrugs off and it masked her face with shock. Talk about a plot twist.

“It’s not a cult, but yes I asked to get into a fight.”

“Why?”

She hums.

“Darlin, Harper was the right thing. I felt so much pain in my body, that I felt nothing else except for that pain. And I’ll be a liar if I said I didn’t enjoy it or crave more.”

I turn to my feet unable to bear whatever look she’ll give me. Then I chuckle.

“If only you knew we haven’t even gotten to the nasty part yet.”

**

MONTHS AGO.

“Leave all of that to me. I’ll put you up with someone new as well…”

“No. Don’t. Anyone who’s up for a fight, let them in.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have any experience.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Alright then, but it can’t be tonight. Come on. I’ll show you around then I’m sure you’ll have to get back to the pretty side of town.”

He chuckles at his joke. I’d take offence, but I don’t. I’m merely excited for whenever Harper has to show me.

**

I got a call from Harper exactly three days after that night. He called before noon that there was a fight that night by 7. Which was good since mom and dad had a dinner reservation and won’t be back till midnight.

I kept my boxing gloves and knee pad in the corner and lay in bed with fantasies of how tonight would go.

Now and then, Camilla would creep in and I’d focus on the blood and ripples of cries from whatever opponent I face.

**

I left the house a little before 7, taking my cycle and zooming off. I’m meeting him at the compound.

Harper stood outside clad in a similar outfit, except no jacket this time.

“I didn’t think you’d make it. I’m surprised as I am intrigued.”

Patting my back, he did the same knock as last week so we could both pass through.

“Your opponent is an amateur. His name is an usher. He’s a little bigger than you, but I believe you can take it.”

Harper grins levelling a look at me.

“Last chance to back out if you don’t want to?”

I chuckled.

“What do I have to lose Harper?”

**

I won the fight. How to describe the feeling? Everyone was cheering. They cheered me on the field, but this everyone was yelling my name. Usher had a broken rib, I knocked it in when he tried to aim for my face; it was anticipated, I just ducked and shoved the first thing I saw-his left rib.

He got down immediately, and I won. I feel powerful. In control. I like this. I like this a lot.

“You’re a natural D, that punch was beautiful.”

Beautiful. That’s the word.

“Any more fights?”

“Woah…”

“What?”

“There is, but this guy is an expert..”

“Great, I’ll grab a bottle of water and we can go. It’s the winner against someone else right?”

Harper watched me, silently deciding on what he should do.

“I see so much of me in you, it’s fucking crazy.”

He bobbed his head sideways. It’s my turn to knock his shoulder and Strutt away.

**

The next guy-Timothy. He’s taller and faster. An expert as Harper said. I was down on my knee twice. Both arms were twisted, but I kept going, kicking his shin, and then trying to get him down. The best part was Harper being right.

Winning or losing, I was lit. Either I’m inflicting pain or being on the receiving end, but it feels good.

It’s no surprise that I lost the fight, but being down on my side of my face, I squeezed my eyes and bottled a laugh. Now I relate to Harper. More than anyone in my entire life.

**

PRESENT.

“You…” “I…”

I sigh.

“I’m confused. If you were enjoying it so much. Why did you leave? Why does Harper say you abandoned all of them? Did you suddenly stop fighting, and he picked offence?”

“Yes, I stopped fighting.”

She peered at me.

“I stopped fighting because I found out the fight club was using the fights for something else.”

“W-What?”

“Aside from the fee charged to get in. Harper coordinated bets on players. Then he would purposely lose our resolve to win the match to manipulate the betting results, and he used me to do it.”

“But… Why?”

“I didn’t know. That’s not why I got in. I didn’t know until…”

I groaned, washing my entire face in both hands.

“I didn’t know until someone nearly died for it.”

She gasps so loudly, that it rings in my ear and the sound does not stop.

**

“Camilla? Say something. Please say something.”

I tear my gaze from the door, my eyes are burning up but I get enough courage and take a peek at her.

She’s staring right back, bewildered and trying to process everything I had just said.

I cock a brow and search her features. Hate? Judgement? I can’t tell. She just keeps staring.

“Say something.”

I creak.

“Please don’t hate me.”

I’m tempted to add but conceal that part for myself.

“I need to get a glass of water, I’ll be back.”

Camilla breaks first and leaves my room. I trail her figure until it disappears completely, then I quiet my entire being and listen to her footsteps until they are no more.

****

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