Post by Laci Valentine on Jul 18, 2020 21:41:47 GMT -5
Who said thirteen is unlucky?
By my account, this is the 13th promo that has appeared on your television screens and I'm starting it out with nothing but luck. I went out to that ring with a mission. Not to win. Not to beat Priscilla.... well... maybe that was part of it. But it wasn't to beat Spud. It was to show that mother fucking sexist pig S2 that he messed with the wrong ginger.
I can hear voices and commotion outside the makeshift examination room as the medic examines my mouth and nose. The nose hurt a lot but the medic seemed confident that all this blood was simply from a broken blood vessel and he stuck this heat thing in there to cauterize it. No broken teeth (thank god).
Then I see Spud walk by and I'm quick to jump off the bed.
"Here." The medic throws me a towel and I use it to mop up most of the blood off my face. It's a lot, but I had seen more than this from my own body before. Years of scrapping and defending myself, yet I had managed to keep my grades high and not piss off ant teachers either. I was smart, so all my fights happened outside of school.
I follow him into his room.
"Still handsome." I say with a goofy grin, hoping... no praying to whatever deity would listen that he was following our earlier agreement to keep matches separated from our personal lives. He stands up and without a word, mashes his lips into mine.
Blood, sweat... tuna? Who had tuna for lunch? Oh... right that was me... wait... why am I thinking about fish right now. Get it together Laci.
I am sure that if the circumstances were a bit different, this would probably have lead to more but I gently pull back from his face and see that his own face is also smudged with my life fluid.
What? I'm trying to be creative. Don't look at me like that!
"You got a little something..." I point to my own face with a half smile and he turns to look in the mirror seeing the reddish mask staining his stubble.
"Sorry. If I was expecting it, I might have cleaned myself up a little better."
He shakes his head. "It's fine. However... that kiss..."
"I dunno Mr.Potato head... nothing can beat Champagne kisses."
I chuckle and so does he.
***
Of course I replay this scenario over and over again in my head as Check in for my flight to New York. As I am absentmindedly watching 'lady in the water' on the little tv embedded in the headrest in front of me. And even as I am giving the concierge my credit card.
I open the door and walk in and a light flicks on.
"Hey fucker!"
I scream, throwing my bag, my phone and nearly peeing my pants because I have had to go since twenty minutes into the flight and no way I am trying to squeeze into those tiny airplane bathrooms. Once I stop screaming, Zaylee stops laughing at me.
"How the fuck did you get in here!"
He smiles. "Never underestimate a girl that used to live on the streets. I heard you were going to be in town, thought I'd drop in."
I pick up my phone, thankfully it's not damaged. Couldn't say the same for my ego though.
"I heard you pulled out of that company."
Zaylee shrugs. "Wasn't going to work out, but this time, it was because the place was a trainwreck, not because I'm running anywhere. I'm still here, looking for other gigs."
I put my bag on the bed. Excuse myself to the washroom and groan in satisfaction as my bladder is finally relieved. I really shouldn't have been surprised that Zaylee would find a way to break into my room. I had started to figure out that even someone as unpredictable as Zay, had some predictable qualities about her.
"So, what's going on with that Spud guy, you fuck him yet?" Zaylee says through the bathroom door. I sigh deeply into the bathroom mirror.
"Not that it's any of your business, but no."
"Why not? Haven't you only ever been with one guy before?"
Clenching my fists on the counter. "What does that matter? I don't sleep around."
"You should live a little. The guy has been pretty patient."
She wasn't wrong. He had been patient. And sweet. I just still had this anxiety ridden fear that once he got it, he would move on, conquest fulfilled. Much like Douglas had.
Douglas Park was my first and only serious boyfriend. He dressed and acted the part of being a badass punk but I knew it was all an act. And when things got too serious with me, he ended it and moved to New York.
Fuck.
"Why don't we go find that loser and egg his house?"
"No Zaylee. It's over with."
Spoilsport.
***
After Zaylee had left, after getting into the mini bar of course, I settled into my night routine, and sent Spud a text before falling asleep.
"Hope to dream of you."
That was corny. But maybe he'd be the type to appreciate it.
2:35am
It was the time that glared at me when the phone rang.
"What?!" I say half asleep, half angry into the phone.
"Meet me at the address I'm texting you. I have a present for you."
Zaylee hangs up and the text comes through almost right away.
The address. I had no idea where that was. Then another text. This one has me wide awake. It's a picture. Zaylee taking a selfie of herself and a man that's gaged. A man that looked a lot like Douglas Park.
Fuck. I was going to end up arrested.
I take it back. Definitely unlucky thirteen.
By my account, this is the 13th promo that has appeared on your television screens and I'm starting it out with nothing but luck. I went out to that ring with a mission. Not to win. Not to beat Priscilla.... well... maybe that was part of it. But it wasn't to beat Spud. It was to show that mother fucking sexist pig S2 that he messed with the wrong ginger.
I can hear voices and commotion outside the makeshift examination room as the medic examines my mouth and nose. The nose hurt a lot but the medic seemed confident that all this blood was simply from a broken blood vessel and he stuck this heat thing in there to cauterize it. No broken teeth (thank god).
Then I see Spud walk by and I'm quick to jump off the bed.
"Here." The medic throws me a towel and I use it to mop up most of the blood off my face. It's a lot, but I had seen more than this from my own body before. Years of scrapping and defending myself, yet I had managed to keep my grades high and not piss off ant teachers either. I was smart, so all my fights happened outside of school.
I follow him into his room.
"Still handsome." I say with a goofy grin, hoping... no praying to whatever deity would listen that he was following our earlier agreement to keep matches separated from our personal lives. He stands up and without a word, mashes his lips into mine.
Blood, sweat... tuna? Who had tuna for lunch? Oh... right that was me... wait... why am I thinking about fish right now. Get it together Laci.
I am sure that if the circumstances were a bit different, this would probably have lead to more but I gently pull back from his face and see that his own face is also smudged with my life fluid.
What? I'm trying to be creative. Don't look at me like that!
"You got a little something..." I point to my own face with a half smile and he turns to look in the mirror seeing the reddish mask staining his stubble.
"Sorry. If I was expecting it, I might have cleaned myself up a little better."
He shakes his head. "It's fine. However... that kiss..."
"I dunno Mr.Potato head... nothing can beat Champagne kisses."
I chuckle and so does he.
***
Of course I replay this scenario over and over again in my head as Check in for my flight to New York. As I am absentmindedly watching 'lady in the water' on the little tv embedded in the headrest in front of me. And even as I am giving the concierge my credit card.
I open the door and walk in and a light flicks on.
"Hey fucker!"
I scream, throwing my bag, my phone and nearly peeing my pants because I have had to go since twenty minutes into the flight and no way I am trying to squeeze into those tiny airplane bathrooms. Once I stop screaming, Zaylee stops laughing at me.
"How the fuck did you get in here!"
He smiles. "Never underestimate a girl that used to live on the streets. I heard you were going to be in town, thought I'd drop in."
I pick up my phone, thankfully it's not damaged. Couldn't say the same for my ego though.
"I heard you pulled out of that company."
Zaylee shrugs. "Wasn't going to work out, but this time, it was because the place was a trainwreck, not because I'm running anywhere. I'm still here, looking for other gigs."
I put my bag on the bed. Excuse myself to the washroom and groan in satisfaction as my bladder is finally relieved. I really shouldn't have been surprised that Zaylee would find a way to break into my room. I had started to figure out that even someone as unpredictable as Zay, had some predictable qualities about her.
"So, what's going on with that Spud guy, you fuck him yet?" Zaylee says through the bathroom door. I sigh deeply into the bathroom mirror.
"Not that it's any of your business, but no."
"Why not? Haven't you only ever been with one guy before?"
Clenching my fists on the counter. "What does that matter? I don't sleep around."
"You should live a little. The guy has been pretty patient."
She wasn't wrong. He had been patient. And sweet. I just still had this anxiety ridden fear that once he got it, he would move on, conquest fulfilled. Much like Douglas had.
Douglas Park was my first and only serious boyfriend. He dressed and acted the part of being a badass punk but I knew it was all an act. And when things got too serious with me, he ended it and moved to New York.
Fuck.
"Why don't we go find that loser and egg his house?"
"No Zaylee. It's over with."
Spoilsport.
***
After Zaylee had left, after getting into the mini bar of course, I settled into my night routine, and sent Spud a text before falling asleep.
"Hope to dream of you."
That was corny. But maybe he'd be the type to appreciate it.
2:35am
It was the time that glared at me when the phone rang.
"What?!" I say half asleep, half angry into the phone.
"Meet me at the address I'm texting you. I have a present for you."
Zaylee hangs up and the text comes through almost right away.
The address. I had no idea where that was. Then another text. This one has me wide awake. It's a picture. Zaylee taking a selfie of herself and a man that's gaged. A man that looked a lot like Douglas Park.
Fuck. I was going to end up arrested.
I take it back. Definitely unlucky thirteen.