Illicit Affairs

01

Camille's POV

A photograph tells a thousand words.

Or that's what my university lecturer used to tell me back in the day during photography class. As I clicked through the images I had taken of Cairo Blaisdell from a recent training session, I wondered what exactly these photos said about her.

The self-explanatory task of regularly creating digital content and posting it online often felt like a challenge. As much as I did enjoy helping with her social presence, there was only so much commentary one could take from the athlete.

Her constant complaints filled my mind: The lightning's too dark. It's not dark enough. The caption sounds dorky. My 'good' side isn't showing. You never show enough of my muscles.

For God's sake.

Clicking back into Adobe Premier Pro, I let out a sigh. The video footage of the black haired woman remained paused as I sat in the dimly lit room. The longer I stared at the screen, the more I felt like screaming.

My fingers hovered over the mouse as if a bright idea was bound to pop out at me. Time kept passing, and I was yet to have made much progress with the project I had been working on tonight.

Maybe a snack might go down well now? I think to myself and reach into the drawer nearby for a packet of custard creams. I had been waiting for the perfect time to try some. But as I looked out the window, I felt my smile fade. The headlights of the car pulling up the driveway signalled the end of my editing time. I clicked pause on the rap song playing through my earphones just in time.

Trouble had begun.

I could tell something was up from the piercing shriek that was coming from outside. As I shut the lid of my laptop, the front door swung open.

"It's all your fault, Adam!" Cairo screamed out loud and marched straight past me.

"How is it my fault?" Adam Cerra sighed, trailing behind the woman looking exhausted.

"You heard how much of a challenge my opponent was going to be tonight. God, I know I could have knocked out that bitch. I just know that I could have. But you didn't do enough to help me do that." She dramatically yelled at her boyfriend. I couldn't help but to roll my eyes at her comment.

"We can fix this, honey. I promise. We just need to go back to the drawing board -"

"NO!" She yelled out loud, immediately interrupting her boyfriend. "I don't need a stupid drawing board. All I need to do is box, and all you need to do is make sure you coach me properly. I can't believe I lost to that woman."

"I am coaching you. I've been coaching you, sweetheart." Adam added with a whine.

"Well then coach harder next time. Then maybe I won't be humiliated in the ring." She fired back at him.

"Come find me when you're not willing to rip my head off, Cairo." The dark-haired man sighed before making his way to the kitchen in defeat.

"Whatever." She muttered to herself, as I observed the boxer slump onto the couch.

"I'm sorry to hear about the loss tonight. What happened?" I finally chime in to break the silence. Cairo was going to snap at me too, wasn't she?

"Louise Paul, that's what happened. I don't even know how, but she overpowered me. No matter how hard I tried to stop her, I couldn't, and I hate that so much." Cairo admitted, covering her face.

"For what it's worth, you fought with all you could, Cairo. That's the most anyone can ask from you." I tell her as she let out a small smile.

As frustrating as it could be at times, I understood her temperament. With the Pacfic Games right around the corner, things were bound to get tense. A ticket to the Paris Olympics was up for grabs and I know how important that was for her to get.