The Struggle •Unedited•

Chapter 30

•Liam•

Reporters jumped up and down as they cheered for the young father's victory. It was an intense fight and I'm glad that the underdog grabbed the win.

"Did daddy win?" Mason chirped.

My smile widened at his question, "Yes, Mason! He won!"

"Yayyy!"

The toddler jumped up from his seat and hopped rapidly in excitement.

A loud blast of the door slamming rapidly takes us out of our celebration and as I look up, I see reporter after reporter leaving the press room, dragging their photographers along.

At first, I'm confused, but then I start to catch on. Fuck! The first interview! The first picture!

Quickly, I scold my photo boy to grab his camera and I shove the notepad in my pocket. At yesterdays match, the fucking Wall Street Journal beat me out for first and I sure as hell heard it from my editor.

Scott would have gotten the first photo! Scott wouldn't have let me down. Blah, blah, blah.

"We gotta go," I mutter, pacing towards the door.

People are shoving everyone that get in their way aside and I'm starting to lose patience.

"Liam!" The intern calls out, "What about the kid?"

Oh shit. I almost forgot the kid

"Good point," I peep, quickly returning to where I left Mason standing.

The photographer chuckles and grabs his camera, making his way out the door.

I sweep the kid off his feet and place him on top of shoulders, "Hold on, kid."

Following quickly after the interns foot steps, I walk out into the bustling mess.

Finally catching up, we snake our way through the crowd, and I feel Mason grip onto the ends of my hair.

At this point, it seems impossible to get inside the arena and into the ring. Someone must have snatched the first interview and photo by now.

"Look!" Mason calls out, pointing a tiny finger towards a TV hung up on the wall that's airing the post-match show. "Daddy and Lissie...they're - they're kissing!"

"What?" I gape and zip around to face the TV.

A squeal falls from the toddler's lips and I feel his hands grip tighter at my hair.

"Don't move fast!"

"Sorry," I mutter.

When my eyes meet the screen, I see the two familiar figures locking lips. People crowding them and many reporters calling for his attention.

"I'll be damned," I chuckle, "Of course,"

Interrupting them is a talk show host himself. Just as he stops speaking to the camera, he positions his body besides Louis, turning to greet him.

"What the fuck?!" He shouts.

The two break apart and Elisabeth's eyes widen with the sight that she's on camera. Both of them look and see Landon Anderson standing beside them.

"Landon, you're on air!" The camera man mutters.

"B-but-that's my fucking ex-girlfriend!" He hollers, extending his microphone toward the pair.

And without warning, the station is cut off, and goes straight to commercial. I can't help but laugh at the host who seemed betrayed by my best friend. Elisabeth has some serious explaining todo.