by Grey, Priya
I’m surprised Mitch still has some life in him. He thrusts his pelvis forward and hits me with a cross. I roll off him, and we both get to our feet.
We stare each other down, as the crowd around us grows hysterical. These people are bloodthirsty. They want more.
Mitch is breathing heavily. I don’t know how much more he has in him. I’m surprised by how good I feel. Sure, I’m exhausted. But I have more in the tank. I surge forward and jump, twisting my body. I hit him square in the jaw with a tornado kick.
Blood spurts out of his mouth as he falls to the floor. He’s out cold. Someone rushes into the cage to check on him. After a few moments, Mitch finally opens his eyes. He’s all right. But he lost.
The crowd outside the cage cheers. It takes me a moment to realize they’re chanting my name. I scan the sea of faces then stop when I see Shane. He’s grinning and gives me a nod.
I have a hunch I just made him a lot of money.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It’s been three days since the fight. I’ve thought about calling him to see how it went. Would that be foolish? Then I think about calling him to schedule another meeting. But I realize his body might need some time to recover from the fight. Sure, I’m paying him a lot of money to fuck me when I need it, but I don’t want to sound like some commanding bitch.
Recording that song about him has really peaked my interest. I want to get to know Kade on more than just a physical level. I’m drawn to him; I can’t deny it. There’s just something about him.
The doorbell rings. I put on my mask. As I enter the kitchen, I see Randy and Suzie. Suzie is holding a bottle of champagne. She shoots me a nervous smile.
“What’s going on?” I ask them.
“What’s going on?” repeats Randy, a smile beaming on her face. “You’re a fuckin’ genius! That’s what’s going on.”
I glance over at Suzie and notice she’s avoiding eye contact with me.
“Thanks for the compliment,” I reply, “But why do I have the sneaking suspicion I might not like the reason behind it?”
Randy turns to Suzie. “Suzie, pop that champagne and pour three glasses, please. We need to celebrate.”
I approach Randy, suspicious. “What exactly are we celebrating?”
Randy claps her hands ecstatically. “The label loves your new songs, especially the last one about the fighter. They want to start dropping them ASAP.”
A loud pop echoes throughout the kitchen. Suzie pours three glasses of champagne.
“But that’s not the best part,” continues Randy.
Suzie hands me my glass and whispers, “I just found out, Melody. You’re not going to like it.”
“Found out what?” I ask, now getting worried.
“They want to schedule a tour for this summer!” says Randy. She’s super excited.
My heart catches in my throat. I couldn’t have heard her correctly.
“What?”
Randy nods, her smile still beaming. “I know. Amazing, isn’t it? The label believes this could be the comeback of the century. They want to pull out all the stops. They don’t even want to wait until the album is ready.”
“Nobody cares about albums anymore,” says Suzie with a sad shrug.
“It’s true,” concurs Randy. “They want to release the songs as you write them. Do some music videos.”
“Music videos,” I repeat, my head spinning. Nervous tension ricochets through my body.
“Definitely one for that last song you wrote. That song is hot,” says Randy.
“It’s really good,” mutters Suzie. “I cried when I heard it. It’s your best song yet.”
I look at the two of them, shocked.
“This can’t be happening?” I say, lowering my head.
“I know, it’s incredible,” exclaims Randy. “After everything you’ve been through, you’re still going to be on top. You’re going back on tour!”
I look at Randy and see her staring at me, excited. I throw my glass of champagne straight at her face.
“Melody, what’s wrong with you?” she shouts.
“I’m not going out there. I’m not going on tour!” I cry.
I hurry out of the kitchen. The two of them follow me into the living room.
“I don’t understand,” says Randy. “This is great news.”
I whirl around. “How is this great news, Randy?”
“People still want to hear what you have to say. Don’t you realize how lucky you are?”
She clearly doesn’t realize the horrific panic I’m in.
I beat my fists into my legs, bend forward and scream.
“I want people to stop telling me how lucky I am! If I’m so lucky, then trade places with me. Would you do that, Randy? Would you put yourself out there and get every aspect of your appearance scrutinized? Deal with all the haters online commenting on how ugly you are?! Listen to them talk about your fuckin’ ugly face?! I’m the one who has to deal with that. Me. Not you. It’s easy to say I’m lucky when you get to watch me from the sidelines. You’re not the one standing in the burning white spotlight.”
I’m out of breath, exhausted. I take a seat on the couch. Randy and Suzie stare at me in silence. Randy wipes the champagne off her face with a towel.
“I’m sorry, Randy,” I mutter. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” she replies. With a sigh she adds, “But I understand. Although you might not believe it, Melody, I do care about you. Yes, it’s true I work for you; but that’s not the only reason I’m here. I’m not like your mom and dad. I want to see you happy. You may not want to admit it, but you won’t be truly happy until you’re able to face the world again. We both know you can’t stop singing and writing songs. It’s in your blood. And what good is it to write such amazing music if nobody is ever going to hear it or see you perform?”
“I can’t go on tour. I’m not ready,” I plead looking up at her.
Mingus suddenly jumps on my lap. I rub his belly. Then, Randy takes a seat on the couch next to me.
“I just need more time, Randy. I can’t go out there yet. I’m scared. I just need more time”
Randy nods. “I know it’s not going to be easy.”
I can tell by the look in her eyes that there’s something else she wants to say, but she’s wavering. I turn to Suzie. She’s staring at the ground, and avoids looking at me.
“What is it? There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Randy finally manages to get it out. “I hate telling you this. Especially since I know you might not be ready. But based on the contract you have with the label, if they like the album, they can require you tour in a minimum of twelve markets.”
My jaw drops. “They can force me to go on tour?”
Randy closes her eyes and nods. “If you refuse to tour this summer, they can claim you’re in breach of contract and sue.”
“I have the label from fuckin’ hell, Randy! Why on earth would we ever agree to that?!”
Carrying Mingus in my arms, I angrily get up from the couch. I head to the window and look out, onto my backyard.
“It was part of the renegotiation we made four years ago with the label,” says Randy. “Unless you want to be dragged into court, I’m afraid you have no choice but to tour.”
“I can’t believe this,” I complain.
“Melody, I know you might not want to hear this,” says Suzie. “But I don’t think everyone is going to be mean to you. Sure, there are going to be some assholes, but just ignore them. People loved you before the accident, and when they hear these new songs, they’re going to love you again.”
I know Suzie means well, but I’ve stopped listening as she continues talking. I just stare out my window in a daze. I’m going to have to face the world.
I’m not ready.
I’m scared out of my mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Four days after the fight and I’m still sore in a million different places.
Although my body aches, I must admit I’m happy. Melody wired the hundred thousand into my account before the fight. And after my victory in the octagon, I’m a bit of a hero at the gym. I guess Shane was right. There still are some fighting years in me. I’m about to lie down in bed, try to catch some sleep, when my cell phone rings. It’s her.
“How are you?” she asks. I can tell by the tone in her voice that she’s rattled, nervous.
“I’m good. You?”
“I wanted to call you but didn’t want to bother you, in case you were recovering. How’d you do… in the fight?”
“I won.”
“Congratulations.” There’s a long pause. “Can I see you… tonight?”
I slowly sit up in bed. My body needs some rest, but I can hear the desperation in her voice. “Yeah, sure.”
“Thank you,” she replies.
The way she sounds makes me realize tonight may not be about sex.
“No worries. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I hang up and get dressed.
When I arrive at her place – even though I can’t see her face – I can tell by her body language that she’s a nervous wreck. She offers me a beer, which I take. Then, we walk into the living room.
She heads to the bay window that overlooks her backyard. She stares into the night. Mingus, the puppy, is at my heels. I scoop him up with one hand and let him rest in the crook of my arm. I take a swig from my beer.
“What’s up?” I ask.
She slowly turns around. She stares at me through the eyeholes in her mask.
“What’s up… Is that I wish I never met you.”
Shit. Does she want to cancel our arrangement? I thought we had a good thing going. Did I do something wrong? Does she want the hundred grand she wired into my account back?
“Why?” is the only word I manage to mutter.
She sighs. She steps toward a laptop resting on the grand piano. “Because of this,” she says as she presses a button. A song begins playing through the speakers.
You rob my gut
Of all that I got
Take away my smile
My blood, my tears
My youth, my years
They’ve all disappeared
But I’m fighter in a cage
A tiger filled with rage
The battle has been staged
She takes a seat on the piano stool. We’re both silent as her voice echoes through the room. It’s a slow, sad song. Raw and intense. I listen to the lyrics and realize the song is about me. About me being a fighter. But when the chorus kicks in and the next verse plays, I realize the song is about much more. It’s like she stared into my soul and put into words every thing I’ve been struggling with. But how? I look at her in disbelief as the song continues.
I’ll never give up
I won’t break for you
You’ll have to kill me you fool
But you still want more
Turn me into a whore
I can’t settle this score
My heart’s gone numb
There’s only empty space
Where love’s memory took place
Suddenly, anguish overwhelms me. I’m being attacked from the inside. I picture Max, staring at me from the hospital bed. His eyes almost lifeless. Tears run down my face. Fuck. I’m crying. Right here, in front of her. I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. I bend down and lower Mingus to the floor. I lean against the wall and close my eyes as the song continues.
Maybe I’ll meet you again
Up the stairs at heaven’s end
Until then, farewell, my friend
I want to shove the emotion creeping up my throat back down, but I can’t. There’s something about her voice, the way it sounds, her words.
Fuck, I’m still crying. I can’t stop.
l drop to the floor, squat, and lower my head. I put the beer down.
But until that day
I’ll fight and I’ll pray
I’ll fight and I’ll pray
Until the pain goes away
The song ends.
Silence fills the space between us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
He’s like a wounded animal, crouching on the floor before me. He’s embarrassed, ashamed of this uncontrollable show of emotion. I’ve never seen someone break like this in front of me. I feel terrible. I knew he was haunted by loss. But I never thought my music could take him to such a painful place. Seeing this strong fighter crumble in my presence, when reminded of his son, brings me to tears.
I’ve been selfish. I didn’t consider the impact the song might have on him. I asked him to come over so he could comfort me, because I was frightened by the thought of going on tour. But now, I realize he is the one who needs comforting. I’ve been obsessed with my own problems, my own fears, my own anger, and my own insecurities. I didn’t realize the depth of his loss. Sure, I could understand it in the abstract. But to actually go through something like that… losing your child… that’s unimaginable.
I wish I never wrote this song.
I need to apologize. But words aren’t enough. I want to comfort him somehow. I want to kiss him.
Then slowly, I realize what I need to do.
I reach behind my head and loosen my mask. He’s still looking at the ground, avoiding my gaze. He’s struggling to find composure.
My hands trembling, I slowly slip the mask off, revealing my face.
He will be the one. The first, to see me as I truly am.
I want him to know that seeing his pain has given me the strength to move forward. I want him to know how grateful I am that he’s helped me.
Having him see me, without my mask, is the only gesture that makes sense.
I take a few steps forward. He’s still hiding his face.
My body is shaking with nerves.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice quivering. “For what happened. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for my song to…” I can’t finish the sentence. Words are inadequate.
My fingers tremble as I clutch the mask in my hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I can’t look at her. I don’t want her to see me like this. I’m a pussy. A fuckin’ mess.
There’s a long silence. I hear her footsteps getting closer. She’s standing over me.
“I’m so sorry,” she says softly. “For what happened. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for my song to…”
I nod my head slowly. “It’s okay,” I mumble. I can hear the weakness in my voice. I still can’t look her in the eyes. I keep my head low and stare at the floor. I’m almost sick by how weak I am right now. I can’t be weak. I have to be strong. I have to move forward. I have to live the life Max never got the chance too.
When I finally look up, I see something white in my line of sight. It’s her mask. She’s holding it in her trembling hand.
Stunned, I look up.
I can see her face.
Slowly, I rise.
She looks straight at me, her face exposed. I explore her scar-pulled skin, the discoloration.
In shock, I look into her eyes. I don’t know what to say. Just seconds ago, I was in the midst of an emotional storm thinking about Max. Now, I’m standing in awe of her courage.
“You’re the reason I can finally do this,” she says, her voice shaking.
I step forward and gently run my hand over her cheek.
“It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?” she asks, looking distressed.
I slowly shake my head. There are no words for a moment like this.
I lean forward and kiss her.
I dip my tongue into her warm mouth. Our tongues come together in a dance.
“You taste good,” she says in between kisses.
I wrap my arms around her and embrace her tightly.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“For what?” she asks, confused.
“Just thank you,” I reply.
When I look at her, I notice her eyes a
re filled with tears. We kiss again. The kisses grow more passionate. And soon, kisses aren’t enough. I yank off my t-shirt and she presses her hands against my chest. I reach for her skirt, lift it and pull down her panties.
I tug on her bottom lip and growl. “I need you… now.”
“Take me,” she breathes, as she presses her lips against mine.
There’s no time for the bedroom. I want to get inside her at once. I feel intrinsic, unbridled passion for her. I lower her to the floor and slip her undies off her feet. Quickly unzipping my fly, I yank out my cock. I’m already hard, desperately craving her.
She reaches and tugs on my shaft. She guides it toward the voice between her legs.
As we lie on her living room floor, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, I slide my cock inside her.
She tilts her head back with a groan. A smile spreads over her face. I thank God that mask is finally off. I lean forward and kiss her again.
As I grind my hips against hers, driving my cock in deeper, she moans with pleasure. She wraps her legs around me and grabs my ass.
She dips her tongue into my mouth and grins.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” she says, breathlessly.
The heat between us intensifies. Our bodies meld, our tongues dance. We let go together. And when we come, we come together. Both of us groan into each other’s ears. After we orgasm, we just lie still, staring at each other.
I gently touch her face.
“Why now?” I ask.
She shrugs and rests her head against my shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me,” she confesses. “When I saw you crying in front of me, I realized you were vulnerable. You looked so alone, in so much pain. I know what that feels like. I wanted you to know that you weren’t alone. I felt an urge to comfort you. To kiss you. The mask was in the way. So, without really thinking, I took it off. You kissed me first though. That was a surprise.”