Leave it to Fate (Fate Series - Book #1)

Chapter Ten - Fight Club

Colson held my hand as we walked. I wondered where we were going, but didn't care to ask. The room of people broke off, and we were left with a slightly smaller group. I was thankful for that, but part of me still resented sharing the short amount of time I had with Colson. We stopped in front of a hotel, several people finishing their cigarets.

"Colson," I brought his attention back to me.

"Yeah, baby?" he asked, gazing down at me.

"I'll need to leave," I checked the clock on my phone, "fairly soon. I have work tomorrow."

I was saddened by this truth, but I was already going to be a zombie. I slightly regretted my decision to take Colson up on this but I can't image any senecio where I turned him down.

"No worries, that's the beauty of having a jet. I'll text the pilot to stand by." he assured me and brought his phone out from his back pocket.

"Thank you." I appreciated his quick solution, I was able to relax again.

Pete headed into the hotel to book the room, despite being a considerable smaller crowd the receptionist would be sure to react to this amount of people.

The size of the group however did not stop the smoke from filling the hotel room as we all gathered inside. Blunts were rolled and lit. Lines were drawn. Alcohol was drunk straight from the bottle. I sat against the wall that held the balcony for fresh air and watched the party rage inside. I declined what came my way, as politely as I could.

I took the paper cup that sat next to the complimentary coffee and peeled away the plastic. Filling it with water, I hoped it would look like vodka so I would appear to be partying along with them. I had never been a prude. I had drunk myself into blackouts on occasion and partied with the best of them. But in this room full of strangers and my fairly new boyfriend, was he my boyfriend?  I wanted to keep my wits about me and lessen the pain of going to work on what would be very little sleep.

Colson and Pete had removed their shirts and jeans, leaving their boxer briefs and had started the makings of a fight club. Chuck Palahniuk would be proud. Quoting the movie Pete, fists raised said, "You are not your job, you're not how much money you have in the bank." And took a fake swing.

Colson playfully swung back and continued the line "You are not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fucking khakis." Laughing as he said, 'fucking khakis'. The people around them cheered, some threw dollar bills.

The fight continued playfully but the force grew as they began to really challenge each other. One left hook caught Colson in the jaw and he slammed into the 32' flat screen tv on the dresser behind him. I took a step forward, shocked. Anger grew in my stomach toward Pete. I narrowed my eyes at him, wanting to defend Colson.

"Oh damn!" Pete called out, moving toward him with concern.

"Shit man, going all fucking Brad Pitt on me," Colson said referencing the actor in Fight Club, rubbing his jaw. He turned to the smashed screen tv behind him.

"He got it worse than me though." Colson joked, breaking the tension. 

The room burst into laughter.

"Man, screw this tv," he declared, pulling it from the wall. "Watch out, babe," he instructed and I moved in time for him to toss the television over the balcony onto the ground below.

The room erupted in cheers but my stomach sank as fast as the tv. My eyes opened wide in disbelief. Okay. Colson just did that. Pete joined his friend by tossing the chair to the desk out the window. More cheers. They bumped chests in satisfaction of their destruction. And he just did that. I should my head in disbelief. This is insane.