“The look of horror and then hatred on her face was awesome. What King said to that reporter about you must’ve blown her away. I guess she hoped he would play along because it embarrassed the crap out of her. It was so good; I hope someone got that on film,” she laughed.
“Nice,” I said, searching the arena for her but not finding her anywhere.
“She followed Giorgio to his room; I watched her,” Miko said. “I had a feeling things didn’t play out as she planned, so I kept an eye out to make sure she didn’t take it out on you.”
“Aw, thanks, Miko!” I said. “Let’s get everyone ready to celebrate!”
King sent me a text saying that he had some things to wrap up at the arena, so we should all get the night started without him. I shared the update with the group and we decided where to go, then I sent the details to King and he replied that he’d be there within a half-hour.
Chapter 13
Our group headed to the Range Rovers that were waiting outside for us, and piled in. I was glad that there was no one around taking pictures or asking questions. Maybe King was right; maybe this was all over the second he walked out of the octagon.
I was sure to get into a Range with Claudia and Kevin this time—I thought it best to put some space between Miko and I. Over these last few days he helped me so much and I was very thankful for that, but knew that he had hopes of rekindling our relationship—and that just wasn’t going to happen.
As soon as we arrived at the club we ordered bottle service and started making drinks. I tried to order King’s favorite champagne to pop open when he arrived, but they didn’t have it in stock so I got a bottle of Cristal instead. We all made drinks and we started to celebrate the fight, as if King was here celebrating with us.
After our first drink, Asli, Emelia, Claudia, and I went to the dance floor. It felt so good to let loose tonight—we’ve had a week of stress and activities, but our time in Vegas was coming to an end. The fight is now over, and so is the drama. And King won.
On our way to the club, I put my Apple watch on so I could stay connected without carrying my purse around. I checked my watch every few minutes to make sure I met King at our table as soon as he arrived. I was so excited to pop the champagne and celebrate with him and our friends—I didn’t want to miss a minute.
A few songs later nothing had come in; I figured he’d have arrived by now, but whatever. I was going to have fun with my girls until he got here.
Because it was New Year’s Eve, the club was packed. So much so that dancing started to get more annoying than fun, so we headed back to our table and made more drinks. We also ordered another bottle of champagne just for us…the first bottle was still waiting for King’s arrival.
As the waitress poured our glasses, Miko asked if I was doing OK.
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
He paused and searched my face.
“Well, King’s not here. I just wondered if everything was alright.”
“Everything’s fine, Miko. He just had to wrap up some things at the arena,” I said, checking my watch again. Nothing had come in and it’s been forty-five minutes.
But Miko had planted a seed in my head, so I pulled out my phone and looked up the MMA site to see if there was anything posted. Unfortunately, there were some new articles and pictures. Why on earth is this one fight, and these two fighters, so popular? I guess I know why—they, and Layla, are gorgeous.
There was no new content, just a rehashing of this week’s events over-exaggerating anything possible, with no out-right lies.
I put the phone on the table and clinked glasses with my friends after Claudia made a toast to ending the year on a high note with new friends. I took a sip, then picked my phone back up so I could send a text to King.
Me: Where are you?
King: Almost done. I’ll be there soon. I love you
I put my phone on my lap and continued to talk to my friends and joke around with the guys. We were having a good time, but my mind kept turning back to ‘where the heck is King’? After two glasses of champagne—yes, we ordered another bottle—I was starting to get a little pissed. It’s now been an hour and a half since I left him—when he said he’d be here within a half-hour.
“Let’s go dance,” I suggested to Tori.
We put our purses aside and headed to the dance floor with Emelia, Viv, and Asli. Claudia stayed at the table with the guys. And I was glad for that; it gave me the freedom to complain to Tori without Claudia jumping to his defense.
“Don’t worry, Ava. He’ll be here any minute,” Tori yelled in my ear over the deafening music. I guess she could see my angst building.
“Will he? He should have been here by now. I don’t know what’s going on, but after everything else, I didn’t really need more bullshit tonight.”
“He’ll be here. Any minute. Just relax,” she said.
We danced to a few songs and I checked my watch often. No news from King. At first I tried to enjoy myself, but the tension built. The third time I checked my watch and found no new texts, I lost my patience.
“I’m done dancing. I’ll see you guys back at the table,” I told Tori.
I walked off the dance floor and took a look into the champagne bucket that was waiting for King’s arrival—and still contained King’s celebratory bottle—before sitting down at the table. The ice was melting. For some strange reason, that infuriated me.
“Claudia, have you heard from your brother?” I asked her loud enough that the guys heard as well. I saw Miko look at Dylan, then shake his head.
“No, Ava. But I’m sure he’ll be here soon. Don’t worry.”
I didn’t say anything further, just sat down and grabbed my glass of champagne. At least, I grabbed what I thought was my glass…there were five on the table; I grabbed the closest one.
I guzzled the champagne, put the glass down, picked up my purse, and headed toward the nightclub entrance. I’d had enough. I needed fresh air and to get out of the chaos of the club—it was only making my discomfort grow.
Just a few steps outside of the entrance, which put me in the massive walkway leading to the casino area, my arm was grabbed from behind. I shook the hand off and swung around to face Miko.
“Damn you can high tail it in those heels,” he said.
“Leave me alone, Miko. I want to be alone,” I snipped. It wasn’t a yell, but wasn’t exactly nice either.
“Just wait,” he said, grabbing my arm again, forcing me to stay still. “It’s New Year’s Eve…this place is a madhouse. Just let me stay with you—I’ll go wherever you want.”
It would be nice to talk to him—he’s well informed about all the bullshit that’s been going on this week and will probably understand my frustration. And he’s not a King advocate, like Claudia and Tori.
“Fine. I want to go to the pool.”
“Let’s go,” he said, putting his hand on the small of my back and guiding me toward the elevators that would take us to a pool. I instantly started to feel better.
We walked through the expansive casino and hallway toward the pool in silence. I was seething, partly because I wanted to be celebrating with King and he was obviously celebrating on his own. And partly because I know I’m being a spoiled brat and I just can’t control it.
My mind kept telling me to calm down, but my emotions keep yelling “fuck him for ignoring you, after all you’ve put up with this week”. My emotions were winning over my mind.
The pool was crowded—for New Year’s Eve, it’s been converted to an outdoor nightclub with space heaters sprinkled throughout. But it was much less crowded than that nightclub we just left and it was out in the fresh air.
Miko talked to the hostess—they didn’t have an official New Year’s Eve table available, but she said we could grab any untaken table near one of the bars. There were many to choose from—most of the revelers wanted to be in the center of the action. I did not.
I sat at a table next to the least crowded bar in
the pool area as Miko got us drinks. As soon as I laid my purse on the table, I finally got another message from King.
Almost there. Sorry about this.
I dismissed the text from my watch, then took the watch off and put it in my purse. Fuck him; I’m pissed. Then I quickly remembered my habit of running away from him when I’m upset—something King asked me not to do again. So I pulled my phone out and responded, even though my inner brat was kicking and screaming.
Everyone’s in the club; I’m at the pool getting some fresh air. Will meet you inside.
There. I felt like my mature side won a point against my bratty side. But the brat didn’t like the loss—I pulled out my phone and turned it off. I don’t want to be bothered anymore by him, and I really don’t want him to find me.
Miko came back to the table empty-handed, but said a waiter’s going to swing by and drop off our order. He sat down and I took a few deep breaths to try to calm myself. I know I’m being immature and overly emotional, but I can’t help the way I feel. I honestly feel stressed—my breaths are short, I feel anxious, and I just can’t relax.
“I guess you saw the latest pictures and articles, eh?” he said.
“I saw some, but there’s nothing going on. As we all know, this is all bullshit. So if you found anything, please just ignore it.”
“Just look,” he said, holding his phone up. On the screen was a picture of Layla and King from a pretty cheesy site. The caption read “It Looks Like She Made Her Choice”.
“Miko, we talked about this. It’s all part of the show.”
“After last night, I figured he would stop playing along. It’s him, Ava. Look closely.”
“If it is him, it’s photo-shopped. Why is it that you keep throwing this stuff in my face, Miko? We all know that Giorgio’s team is making stuff up…why do you keep trying to find truth in it?”
“I’m not, I just want to be sure you’re not getting screwed. Just read the article.”
I skipped over the picture; it was so dark and shadowy that it was impossible to tell if it was King and I couldn’t even confirm that the girl was Layla—the person in the picture had large sunglasses on and a scarf around her neck with a high ponytail.
The article was a journal of tonight’s events—including a picture of me watching King’s fight—there was a time stamp below the picture from shortly after we left the arena. It started with noting that he claimed to not give a shit about Layla after the fight, but that I ran out and the headline was “Did He End Up Alone?”
I skimmed over the whole article—desperate to find fallacy in it—but the site started to blur. Then I realized that the blur was caused by my tears about to flow out of my eyes. I put the phone down and looked at Miko.
“When King gets here, I’ll ask him about this. I’m sure it’s fake; Giorgio’s manager is probably still leaking stories.”
“It doesn’t really make sense to have stories that aren’t favorable to Giorgio, does it?”
“Who knows? Maybe they want to fight King again?”
“I thought King said no more professional fights.”
“He did,” I said, staring at the ground, deep in thought.
I kept quiet, just trying to process everything. After last night, and all the things he did and said, I was sure this was just more sham propaganda. I’m sure it’s not King. And I promised him I’d let him explain anything before jumping to conclusions—as reasonable as the conclusion may be.
“So, where is the champ anyway? Shouldn’t he have arrived by now?”
“He was delayed, but just sent a text that he’ll be here soon.”
“Delayed? Or maybe he just had to finish his last photo shoots.”
“Miko, stop! I know that this has nothing to do with him,” I said, motioning to the phone. “And I know he’s not a part of this; I’m sure of it. He’ll have an explanation that’ll make perfect sense. Right now, I don’t want to deal with it. I’m just stressed and tired. I just want this week to be over.”
We sat in silence for a minute. Yes, it bothers me that there are more pictures and more stories. I thought this would all be over once the fight was over and those cease and desist orders should be in place. I’m not really concerned about the new site Miko found, but it is slightly annoying that King’s been mostly out of communication for the last hour and a half.
He’s on his way now. “I wonder if it’s not such a good idea for King to find me with you, assuming he comes out here instead of going to the club,” I said.
“Well, there are three pools and I’m sure they’re all as crowded as this one, so it may take a while for him to find us. And I hope he can show some restraint; I’m actually surprised he didn’t at least hit me once as soon as he walked into my room this morning. He was furious,” Miko said, laughing from the memory.
“I guess he had priorities higher than revenge. He did ask me about it, though.”
“He actually thought something happened between us?”
I nodded in confirmation.
“Well, I’m flattered that he thinks I have a chance, but I don’t have a death wish.”
“He doesn’t think you have a chance; he was just concerned that you took advantage of my compromised emotional state.”
“Like I’d ever do that. I’d never hurt you, Ava. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Not like your boyfriend keeps hurting you. Have you forgiven him for all this bullshit?”
“Yeah, I mean, it’s not like he meant for any of this to happen...”
“His actions led to this. Don’t forget that.”
I sighed. I’m tired of thinking about everything. I’m tired of being upset and I’m beyond tired of not trusting King.
“Can we talk about something else? I really don’t want to deal with this anymore.”
“Sure. How about you tell me your New Year’s resolution? And make it a good one.”
“I don’t have one. I’m not big on them. What about you?”
“I’m going to resolve to...wait,” Miko said, looking at his phone. “There’s more.”
He handed me his phone and showed me another website—one I’ve yet to hear about. This one seemed shadier; it looked like it was as just thrown together by some eight year-old in their parents’ basement.
“Who cares about what this shitty site says? Some of the fake pictures and articles from the MMA site had already proliferated before King put a cease and desist order on them. I’m sure this isn’t going to be the last of the bullshit I have to see. I just have to keep notifying the lawyer.”
“No, look at the time stamp; it’s from an hour ago. And King’s wearing the same boxing shorts he fought in—tonight’s the first time he wore them, isn’t it?”
Of course it is. Both fighters had shorts designed specifically for this fight. This is him—the picture is straight on and bright this time—and the timestamp shows it was taken tonight.
The picture was of King alone and the caption read “She Chose Giorgio” and a subtitle of “...and he doesn’t look too happy about it”.
I locked the phone and handed it to Miko.
“Well, at least they didn’t end up together,” I said, sarcastically.
“What can I do?” Miko asked, handing me a tissue.
My mind was a blur. All the articles and pictures from this week; all of the apologies from him were all mixed together. Then I started to straighten it all out.
Rumors and gossip get released, and King apologized and says it won’t happen again. More rumors and gossip, more apologies. And now this; after he promised it was over, I continued to have to deal with the bullshit?
I didn’t know how to respond to Miko’s question, at first. I felt so confused and, once again, so incredibly stupid. I know what King is going to say—he’ll probably tell me that he was forced to take one last picture as part of the agreement, or as added encouragement for Giorgio to get out of our life.
Or maybe h
e’ll say this picture was taken before the fight and they just photo shopped the time stamp. Who knows? And frankly, who cares? I’m so over pontificating about this shit.
It hit me that he sent me on my way...he told me to leave the arena, probably so he could take his time to do the photo-shoots, and celebrate on his own…or with her. And stupid me happily bounced out of there without suspecting a thing.
Ugh, my bratty side is being unreasonable again.
“Look, Ava, you love him, I get it, but he’s treating you like shit. If he’s not cheating on you—if this is just for press and out of his hands, as you want to believe—then he’s an asshole for allowing them to humiliate you like this in public. Think about how jealous he is with you, but he finds it perfectly OK to publicize pictures with someone he’s already slept with. Fuck that Ava. Seriously.”
For fuck’s sake I know he’s right; I know that’s what it looks like. I just can’t imagine my King being like that. I can’t imagine he would intentionally do any of this. This whole week has been so…strange. So stressful. And Miko’s right—it’s all King’s doing. And even worse, I can’t even imagine what a legitimate excuse for this could be.
The more I started to think about this, the harder the tears fell and the harder it was for me to breath. I think I’m falling into a panic attack. So I fought against it. I know my emotions have been beat up this week—I’m pretty sure I’d cry if I dropped my lipstick tonight.
I forced myself to slip into a daze just drowning myself in the music while Miko went to the bar and grabbed a few napkins. When he returned, I was much calmer.
“He may not even know about this new stuff, Miko,” I said when he handed me a napkin. “He may not be aware of this. Can I really blame him for things he has no part in?”
The waiter came over and dropped off the drinks—and water that Miko ordered for us, thankfully.
“Do you want to go to my room?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “I don’t think that would end well for any of us.”
Guys Like You: Book 5 of The Young and Privileged of Washington, DC Page 19