Rika, the Cuban Flame

9. The Cuban Loser

Rika

It's been three weeks since that morning in the lecture hall. Time flies when I'm prepping for a fight. It's all about training. It's all about keeping my head where it needs to be, and that's usually in the ring and sometimes in my comfortable bed with a good book. I've slacked on that recently. It's odd, right? I'm a tough-as-nails fighter and sometimes I just like a good book, a lamp, and the sound of silence.

I'm training nonstop for my upcoming fight with Lisa Zonjier on pay-per-view. It's a huge deal. Well, every fight is a huge deal, no matter how small or large, or if my opponent is good or bad.

As Ellis ordered, I've kept tabs on my social media. Or rather, kept tabs on the public's perception of what happened. That meter rocks back and forth between me being a bitch and me just being me, and there's nothing wrong with being me. My follower count since that incident exploded, which isn't a bad thing. I get more money from sponsors, more money for promotional content, and more people talking about me, for better or worse, and publicity is always a good thing regardless of what people say.

Now and then, I'll read messages from fans. Some are gross and some are far out in left field. Hell, there's people asking me if I'm going to do certain... how do I say this? Uh... a certain type of adult content. I've only started getting messages like that since all those videos of me and Lucas went public. I know someone uploaded them to adult websites. I know people get off to them, but that's not the person I want to be.

Out of curiosity, I did snoop around on social media and Lucas's profiles aren't private anymore. They're all gone. Completely. Deleted off the face of every social media server on the planet. I tried searching for his handles across all platforms and no such user could be found.

There's been three different meetings about that morning at Ulysses. One with the fighting commission, one with the district attorney for the state, and one with a representative of the university. Ellis attended all of those meetings with me and papa and every meeting went in my favor. The fighting commission let me off with a fine and a warning. I don't mind the fine since it was easy to pay, and the warning was a slap on the wrist. Even with a mountain of videos widely available online, the police and district attorney don't want the attention of charging me with assault and battery or parading me through the court system, citing my connections. As for the university, I completed my literature degree there so they love me regardless of what happened and they would much rather keep me as respected alumni rather than go after me. That meeting was just to see if they could do anything for me. That sure was nice of them.

The night before my fight with Lisa, I'm training at Hardric's gym. Duh, where else would I be? I'm working with one of my sparring partners, Angela, a former champion in the same league I'm in now, inside the ring when Coach Perez hops up and stands outside the ropes.

"How's it going, Rika?" he asks.

I toss a roundhouse kick that connects and go for an immediate takedown, testing whether to take down or throw more punches or kicks since Angela stumbled. "Not bad," I say.

"I have some news," Coach Perez says, leaning over the ropes.

"About what?" I ask. I roll around with Angela, throwing punches and going for a triangle choke. My legs collapse around her head and I hold her wrist, but it isn't locked in yet.

"Lucas Alayna."

I finish the submission and Angela taps and we both get up and bump fists. Finally, I walk over to Coach Perez and squirt a sports drink into my mouth. "I told you, I don't care. So don't bring up-"

"Oh, I know," he interrupts. "But I think you should hear about what's going on in his life, yeah? You know, since you humiliated him all over the internet."