The Mute Fighter | 3

034

034 - The Bar

I had taken the bar and I passed it. Which meant celebrating it. Kyle, Davina, Jared and Francesca were there to help me celebrate. Fran had flown in without telling everyone at home, she was there for me.

I had recently turned 19 and even as we weren't 21 and weren't allowed to drink, we had gotten into a local bar, we wasted no time getting shitfaced drunk.

Francesca and I took pictures together as we danced on the tables, Francesca licked my cheek while I took another sip of my beer.

I laughed as the blitz from the camera blinded me momentarily. Kyle pulled me down from the table and pulled me onto his lap, I was straddling him.

I felt Francesca's eyes on my back, but I was too drunk to care. I kissed Kyle, I bit his lip hungrily and he deepened the kiss instantly and grabbed my hips.

"Oh my god-guys! EW" Davina screamed and laughed hysterically. Jared snorted and fixated his eyes on a guy walking past, licking his lips with desire.

I pulled away from Kyle and got off of him with a teasing smirk on my face, he groaned and shook his head as he took a deep breath. I giggled and let Fran pull me up to the bar for more drinks.

"I support you and I'm here for you-but, I gotta admit, it kind of freaks me out to see you kissing a guy who isn't Mitch..." Fran said and took a long swig of her drink.

"There's nothing in it, he's my friend and we have an agreement. Honestly, I'm still not over him" I admitted to her as I took another three shots.

"You're not?" Francesca asked, surprised. "No, god-lord knows that when Kyle and I fucking I see Mitch. He has my heart" I admitted to her with a defeated sigh.

"Well, that's-well, fuck" Fran stuttered unsure of what to say. "Yeah, tell me about it-I've got two years left and I'm hurting-because of him" I said with a frown, I stared into my glass of whatever drink the bartender had mixed.

"You never talked to him after the day you left did you?" Fran asked and I shook my head no without looking at her. "He tried calling a few times, but that's it. So, I never contacted him after that day" I told her.

"Jesus fuck. He might be the dumbest man on earth. Nick, the guy was hammered after he found out you'd left. He was drunk and crying, he was crying for twelve fucking hours until he passed out from exhaustion" Fran said.

"And guess what- North was the one listening to it and when he woke up-he continued bawling his eyes out. You'd think the idiot would be dehydrated but no-it was a chaos-like Niagara fucking falls" Fran groaned.

"I'm sorry, it all fell onto your shoulders when I left" I apologized. "It's okay, I mean-we manage, we're still dealing with him, Oliver and Cel too" Fran said with a small smile.

"West is still heartbroken and pretends to be mad at you, but we all know he's forgiven you" Fran said and I nodded my head, taking her words to heart.

"I have a year and 11 months left, then I'll come home" I assure her, it was my plan. It would remain that way, nothing would change it.

"Home?" Francesca half whispered, she was touched by the way I still referred to Jacksonville as my home. But it was, it always would be.

Fran hugged me and we got even drunker. The rest I don't remember.

It was all a blur, there was no doubt I was drinking like a newly heartbroken girl, I worked my ass off to become a lawyer, but when I didn't work-alcohol called out to me.

It was only then, that my mind would quieten down and let me have peace. But I could make it, I would make it. I didn't walk away from getting my heart broken to be here and not succeed.

I had no choice, I forced myself to not have a choice.

The truth was, I wanted the underground world to be a part of me still, but I realized I never got a chance to cope with the fact that I was nearly killed and I could never fight again.

I was never good at fighting verbally, I was always great with my fists. Maybe that was why I wanted to become a lawyer so badly? As a lawyer you had to be great at fighting for your cause verbally.

Maybe it was what I needed, but didn't realize it till now. I seeked out the opposite of what I loved doing, I had wanted to become an MMA fighter for as long as I could remember-it was a part of me for over half of my life.

In one evening-one match, it was all taken away from me and I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready at all.

Seeing everyone I love doing what I loved the most, maybe it had taken a bit too hard on me. Maybe I wasn't fine seeing them fight and achieve what used to be my goals too.

It wasn't envy. I wanted them to have it, to experience it.

It was just pure heartbreak. I was heartbroken. I lost everything I lived for.

The morning after was rough, I woke up in my bed with Fran sprawled across the tiny bed. I groaned as I held my head in pain.

"Be quiet, bitch" Fran groaned. A smile tugged on my lips, but quickly turned into a wince when I sat up. I only wore underwear, I was stripped to my underwear.

"I don't even wanna know what happened last night" I mumbled but it was more to myself than to Francesca.

"Be quiet," Kyle groaned from the floor. I stepped over him to get to the sink and I chugged pain killers without a second of hesitation.

I closed my eyes and gripped the sink, holding it to remain balanced on my feet. I reopened them and looked in the mirror.

I looked like shit. I'd lost weight, I was skinnier, I barely recognized myself. I gave my reflection a small smile before turning on the water, I held my hands out catching the cold fresh water before rubbing it over my face.

I repeated a few times before drying my face, I threw the towel in the ring and headed back out to the others. It was only Fran, Kyle and I.

I found a hoodie in the corner of my room, one I didn't think I had anymore. It was Mitch's, he had given me tons of clothes when he got into UFC and had shirts, hoodies and shorts made with his last name on it.

'Warner' was spelled out across the back and a small name 'Mitch Warner' was marked on the chest.

I gently picked it up and sighed as I ran my hand over it. I brought it to my cheek and inhaled the remaining scent.

Tears pricked in my eyes and I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I exhaled, I slipped the hoodie on, it was very oversized.

I brought my arms around myself and I sat down in a chair in the corner. I brought my knees up to my chin as I let a few tears fall, I cried silently.

I did my best to remain quiet for the others, I missed him. I missed him so fucking much.

Seeing him that night, fighting and living his dream-I wasn't supposed to have seen that. I didn't want to see him, I couldn't handle it.

I knew he had probably moved on, hell- I was trying as well, yet I couldn't get far enough. I couldn't love anyone else the way I love him.

Nobody compared, nobody could ever compare to what we had. What we went through, the love we experienced. Nobody.