Drowning

Seventeen;

It wasn't that mini matches were pointless, because they weren't; they maintained your reputation and ensured that you were keeping up with the fight, all year round. They just weren't as big a deal as, obviously, championships. So, naturally, I didn't throw up before such matches.

Tonight's match would be the first match that Gina wouldn't be coming to, no matter what. Because, last week, after the shit that went down at Zahara's, I cut ties with Gina completely. I explained to her that I didn't want to keep hurting her. It was better this way. I couldn't keep hurting somebody, yet complain when I was getting hurt, myself. So, I let her go.

"You feeling good, Haz?" Bill asks me.

"Better than ever," I say with a tight smile.

"Can read ya like a book, you." Bill chuckles. "Don't let ya girl problems ruin the match,"

"Girl problems?" I scoff, shaking my head.

"The little girlfriend, Gina, she ain't coming, is she?"

"Well, no. But she was never anything to me." I say.

"Typical young lad," Bill laughs.

We were in the changing room still. There was just 20 more minutes to wait, until the match could commence. The gym would be filling up by now, no doubt.

"No foul play out there tonight, Haz. Small match doesn't mean nobody's watching," Bill says.

"I know, I know." I chuckle.

"Right, lets get you sorted."

-

It was all over the news. Everywhere my head turned, it's all I could see and all that I could hear. The disappointment, the shock, in everybody's tones. The press were obsessed, too.

"Harry Styles, current World Champion, lost his fight tonight to 2008 World Champion, Jorge Ramirez."

It was 3am by now. I hadn't slept a wink. I hadn't gone out with anybody after the match. I hadn't spoken to anybody after the match. I ignored the press, much to Bill's dismay. I ignored everybody's phone calls. I had nothing to say to them, to anyone.

It wasn't that my self worth was reliant on success, however, also, it sort of was. Not in its entirety, but a lose meant so much when you were World Champion. A lose meant so much when the world was talking about it. And the worst part, was that I knew now, for the next week, or at least until the buzz wore off, the press would be everywhere I went. Wanting answers on how, why I lost. How I could let it happen. How did I feel about losing so pathetically to a man who hadn't even fought in a few years? I was dreading it, more than words could ever express.

And for the first time in a while, I wanted to die.

-

I was awoken by a sharp pain in my head. It wasn't the ordinary kind of headache. It was the kind that made you feel as though your skull was trying to rip through your skin, or the type where you could physically feel your brain thumping against bone repeatedly.

I knew immediately why I was having this headache. It was from taking a few too many lines last night.

Reaching for my phone, I checked the time. 9:37am. About a thousand missed notifications, from friends and family alone. I typically muted notifications from social medias.

Though I wanted to go back to sleep because my head was killing me, I also couldn't go back to sleep because my head was killing me. So, I hauled myself out from my bed, and decided to go and take a hot shower to soothe my trembling, aching body.