Static /// Colby Brock

Consequences, Brock

(A/N: Hey guys! This chapter is Colby's POV from the last chapter. Enjoy :) XOXO)

Colby's POV

God, are you a lucky one, Alex Ernst? Oh, how I wish these bars weren't between us right now so I could inflict some real wounds on you. Believe, mine wouldn't look as pretty as the ones already on your face. 

- Some privacy, please? - he told the cop while still looking at me with a smug expression. I wanted nothing more than to wipe it away with a punch or two....or ten.

- Are you sure, Mr. Ernst? - The cop asked

- Those are some pretty tough bars there. I have never felt so safe. - he laughed. The fucker laughed.

The cop nodded, though Alex didn't see him, and walked out of the room.

- You fucker! - I lunged at the bars and gripped two of them with an animal-like force

- Na-ah, Colby. - He moved his finger from left to right as a sign of mocking disapproval - Cameras everywhere.

He pointed aimlessly around the room, thinking I was actually following what he was on about. All I wanted to do was break that arm of his in several different places in several different ways.

- What do you want?! - I snarled, shaking the bars aggressively 

- You don't like beating around the bush much now, do you? - he chuckled, making me tighten my grip even more - I just wanted to see how you're holding up. But now I remember, this isn't your first time behind bars.

Oh, he was asking for me to break through these bars and make him take everything back.

- Makes your skin thicker, maybe that's why it isn't getting to you. Not as much as Sabrina's reaction, anyway.

Breathe, Colby.

The bones in my hand began to shake from how tense they were.

Breathe in, calm down.

My knuckles were so white, they were almost transparent.

Calm, right. Just remain that. 

I could tell the skin of my neck and face was red, just like my eyes.

Where's that cold facade when you need it most?

- I mean, I might be lying. - he lowered his voice - But how can you prove it? How can your friends prove it? - His shoulders shook with the little breath chuckle he let out between his sentences - I have some strong evidence. Jealousy. Rivalry. Anger issues you've been dealing with lately. Oh, and let's not forget, I'm not completely lying. You did break my nose.

- It wasn't even broken, asshat! - I clenched my jaw, pressing my teeth against each other with force that I'm surprised didn't break them.

- Yeah, but again, can you prove it?

He purposely waited for an answer, knowing I didn't have one. 

- That's what I thought. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a playing field I wanna explore. Consequences, Brock. When will you learn? - he gave me a small bow and walked away.

When the door closed behind him, I all of a sudden didn't care about the cameras or mics nearby. I screamed, letting out everything I was holding back. All anger, disappointment, desperation, sorrow, but most of all, the feeling of betrayal. 

My body got a mind of its own for a few moments and my right fist made contact, rough contact with the wall on my left. So much for it healing from the last punches I had thrown. Blood started rushing out. The redness from my neck and face leaked out through my torn skin. I just watched. I didn't call for help, I didn't move, I didn't react. I felt incapable of doing so. For an agonizing five minutes or so, I just stared at my bleeding knuckles, blinked every now and then and breathed, just barely.

A cop came in to give me a water bottle and found me with my right hand resting on the wooden bench in a small pool of blood.

I don't even remember when or how my hand was stitched up, but I do remember the moment she walked in. The moment she came back.

I felt nothing. No anger no bitterness, nothing.

- Here to take a few more punches? Go ahead, I'm free - I shrugged, sounding a lot rougher than intended. 

- You're the one who's doing the punching around here - her voice sounded similar to mine

Once again, we're even.

- Low blow, Sab. Low even for you - I couldn't stop myself from approaching the bars. For some reason I found comfort being close to her. 

- You're right. The low blows are for me. You aim straight for the place apparently - her smile was toxic, biting away at my heart.

- Oh, come on now, Sab. You know me, I don't always punch in the same spot - it took all my efforts to copy her smile without grimacing

- The you I know doesn't punch, period - her eyes narrowed as her posture began getting more and more defensive

I wasn't about to chicken out of this argument just yet - Oh really? Well, the you I know doesn't just run off without asking an explanation. If I remember correctly, you're the curious type. Correct me if I'm wrong, though. I mean, I haven't known you for a while now, have I? - my lips pulled up into a smirk at their own accord when I saw the defeated expression on her face.

And that was the final straw for her. She left. Left me feeling like a piece of shit, as per usual. 

Damn it, Sabrina! How do you always manage to make me feel? Feel everything?

I felt everything, at least that's what I thought at the time. Now I know, it was just one emotion I can't even find a name for. I can tell she was feeling the same. There was little to no doubt in my mind that we both regretted the things we said that early evening. But neither her nor me had the guts to say a thing until it was nearly too late. Now that I think about it, isn't it always like that between us?