blood runs red ✓

XXXII

'no one compares to you, but there's no you'

- lana del ray

Ares

When August left the apartment, Ares first of all didn't notice, but upon realising, he found himself completely lost. He had no idea what just happened between the two, but he knew it was his fault.

It took him so long, so long, literal months of messing around for him to realise how badly he'd treated August. It took him an argument leading to a panic attack that he caused to realise that he'd fucked up. 

Ares really fucked up.

Worst of all, he had to clean himself up and go to sleep, just to go out to an award ceremony that he wanted to be with August for. He wanted to flaunt the trophy in front of Sean's face and then mock Sean in his head whilst fucking August, because Ares had won him too.

He's not a prize to win.

Ares cursed himself for ever thinking of such a kind-hearted man as a toy, someone to steal. He wasn't an object, a prize, but Ares reduced the man to that level. He only realised how dumb he had been to have done such a thing when it was too late.

August was gone, and he'd be a fool to ever come back.

Which is why Ares was determined to do better so he could get the Venezuelan man back for good.

Being better was much harder than Ares expected. See, he'd rested, fixed himself up and drank a bit to prepare himself for the award ceremony, and the only thing he thought about was the amount of girls, and guys, he'd be sleeping with afterwards.

And he was thinking about how glad he was that he'd stolen a win and a man from Sean, even if Sean didn't know about August. 

Trying to be a good person is so much effort.

Ares sighed and fixed his tie before leaving his apartment. He made a conscious effort to try and smile at the valet man instead of demanding for his car to be brought to him. Though he was a bit snappy, he didn't forget to smile at the man. He even gave him an extensive tip.

Ares knew that wasn't enough, but it was enough for him. He was trying, and that's all that matters, right?

Upon arriving at the classy hall, Ares found himself wanting to drive away. He knew that Sean was going to be there, and therefore so would August. Was he ready to see the man whose heart he broke? Probably not. Would he do it anyway? Unfortunately so.

He reluctantly got out of his car, handing the keys to valet man with a gritted smile on his face. He saw his pathetic excuse of a father beckon him over and forced his body to walk over to the man.

"My successful son!" Leonardo called out, swinging an arm around his son's shoulders and pulling him closer. "This boy, winning the season. Isn't he brilliant?"

The men surrounding his father all smiled and agreed.

"You-" Ares bit his tongue, imagining August shaking his head at what he was about to say. "Thank you."

His father seemed surprised that his son hadn't spat out some foul remark about how he was a shitty dad and did nothing to help him grow as a boxer. "You're welcome my son. Now, shall we go in? You've got some awards to accept."

No fucking thanks to you. In fact, you traumatised my boytoy and now he hates me and it's all your fault. Everything would be better without you.

Mom could've made it and she didn't and I blame you.

"Indeed I do." Ares said with a fake smile, trying to get the images of his mom on a hospital bed out of his head, instead imagining his dad there.

"In second place, Sean, The Ravager, Matthews. He might not have won overall, but he still won." The man, whose name Ares didn't listen out for, cheered. "Runner up is still a runner, right ladies and gents?"

Sean smiled, despite wishing he beat the shit out of Ares and won overall, and walked up to accept his award. "Thank you, thank you, everyone!"

"Would you like to dedicate this to anyone?"

"I'd like to dedicate it to my mom, love you momma!" Sean grinned. "And my good.. friend, August, who came and supported me at all my matches."

Good FRIEND? If you're gonna keep him from me, at least acknowledge what he truly is to you. Fucking pussy. Just say you're a fucking cocksucker and move on.

"Anyone else, like a special lady, perhaps?" The man grinned.

No one but Ares noticed the way Sean's hand gripped tighter onto the trophy he held at the mention of a girl. Sean hadn't come to terms with his sexuality at all, and it showed to his rival. It made him laugh a little bit.

"Yeah.. but I'll keep her a secret for now. Being a celebrity girlfriend isn't fun when it comes to the media, you know what I mean?" 

"Fair enough."

Hurry up so I can get my goddamn trophy. I'm sick of this shit.

"Alright, alright, off the stage now." The man laughed. "And now, for our first-place winner, the man of the match and the strongest out there... Ares Cirillo!"

Ares smirked as he walked up to the stage, taking his trophy with the most gratefulness he'd ever felt in his entire life. He was so glad this shit was finally over.

"Our famous God of War, named after the God Himself. How does it feel to win?"

"Amazing, honestly." He laughed with pride. "It feels good to know that I've come so far, and it was actually worth it."

"Yes, you worked hard for this, didn't you?" The unnamed man cheered on. "And it was definitely worth it. Anyone you'd like to dedicate this to?"

"I'd like to dedicate it to my beautiful sister Lana, who was supposed to do it with me. She's out of town for the time being, but if she was here, I'd drag her up here." Ares smiled. "I did this for you, Lana. And my mom, may she rest in peace."

"May she rest in peace." The crowd and the award-man repeated. "Any special girl or guy who helped you out with this?"

Ares wanted to smash the trophy into the man's head. "My ex, Dawn, I guess. We're good friends now."

He scanned his eyes across the crowd, and people assumed he was looking at Dawn, who was smiling and waving. He was actually looking at August, who refused to meet his gaze. Despite that, he whispered a quiet thank-you anyway.

"You had an injury over the season, right? Took you out for a little bit?"

"Mhm." Ares knew this was his moment to shout out August. In other ways, and the medical part, the younger man helped. "I'd like to thank a special Venezuelan man for that. Helped me through my injury. Couldn't have done this without him."

August looked up for a moment, realising this was about him. A squeeze to his hand made him look back down, but Ares didn't notice.

"But no special significant other?"

WILL YOU SHUT UP?

"No, relationships aren't my thing." Ares grit his teeth as he spoke. He wanted a drink, immediately. He couldn't wait for the afterparty, at his apartment, alone, with a nice bottle of vodka.

"Understandable. Ares Cirillo, everybody!"

Cheers erupted as the boxer walked off stage, his eyes never leaving August in the crowd, whose eyes locked with him momentarily. 

And then he looked away, and Ares felt his heart break a bit.

God, relationships really aren't my thing.