Page 5 of The Breaking Pointe

a night in paradise

COLTON

I’m well aware that I took it a tad too far.

I admit, I don’t know if I care so much that I did.

After a couple of jabs about my family— that were creepily close to accuracy—and watching him spit a disgusting ball of phlegm in my direction, I didn’t have much to consider.

He was sitting on a horse that was higher than he could handle, and someone had to knock him off the seat.

I’d forgotten that the goal was about simply winning and not hurting him to a certain point. Listening to him gab and taunt me reminded me of the lowlifes in school who would make fun of me and fuel my hatred—and that’s a hot fire.

Something about him made me cringe.

Seeing his unhinged behavior in person was one thing, but taking his hits was another.

People aren’t kidding when they say someone can be stronger than they look.

Which lets me know he’s definitely using something.

His pupils were so big that his eyes were almost black.

His force gave me a serious headache, and even though I swallowed them like large pills, it feels like they’ve done irreparable damage to my face.

My mouth and jaw are so sore, I’m sure he would’ve broken teeth if I didn’t have my mouth guard in.

Now that I’m settled down, I can feel every single throb and burn, and it’s sending a boat of regrets through my head.

I’m sitting in the quiet dressing room, doing my best to wipe my face clean without hurting myself more.

Each dab of water on my open wounds sends a shooting sensation through my body, causing me to muffle my pained reactions.

These scars are worse, though.

He had gotten me pretty damn good.

One of the most irritating things about boxing is that even if you technically never lose a fight, your body will keep the score.

I may not have gorged myself on beatings enough to feel it now, but in thirty years, I might be saying something different.

The slight bright side of it all was seeing her face in person.

I couldn’t tell if we were having a moment, or if she felt strange because of my will to look in her direction for so long.

I wish she knew that I couldn’t help myself.

It was a brief moment that I’ll revisit in my thoughts, but I had gotten so focused on the game that it was the only moment I got to look at her.

If she’s still hanging on his arm, I’m sure there’s a wave of embarrassment that she’s going to be feeling for him for the next day or two.

A set of knocks hit my door, followed by Trey and his overly rich laughter.

“Why are you not gallivanting around, bro? You fucking did it!”

He crosses his arms, grinning at me as we make eye contact through the mirror I’m sitting at.

“Pardon me for still coming down from my high,”

I say in a mild tone.

He rolls his eyes, walking over to me and smacking my bare back, stinging me like a bee. I wince, listening to him talk”

Let’s go for drinks. That club you like, Paradise? It’s right down the road,”

he offers.

My words come out in the form of an exhale”

I don’t know if I—”

“Colton. Enough excuses, I am begging you. For one night, try to replace them with a drink, or maybe a few. On me. I bet you the party is just getting started if you hurry up,”

he says, smiling at me in the mirror again before walking to the door.

The only paradise I want right now is for someone to rid me of all my bodily pain.

* * *

Trey was right.

Paradise was only beginning to get crowded, and the bottle girls hadn’t even come out yet, which meant we were fashionably early.

Exactly how I like it.

I’m not a fan of overly large crowds and people screaming like the building’s been set to fire.

I love a good party, but I’m either quiet until I get a few drinks in me, or I magically have a sense of confidence spring upon me—and I find that to be a rare occurrence unless I’m in the ring.

So, I guess you could say I try to force myself to be as outgoing as when I’m in the ring at times.

It’s not always a part of the business, but it’s led me to meet some pretty interesting people.

With that comes networking, and by doing so I’ve worked my way into millions of dollars that I have absolutely no idea what to do with.

Trey’s one of the few people I’ve met who knows how to manage it without losing it all or throwing yourself into a downward spiral.

I’m not sure if it’s because he comes from money and he’s been trained to live the lavish life, or if he’s just that honest of a man.

I’ve started not to question why or try to understand how he made it past the dark circle that is wealth and a sheer bit of fame.

I stopped because I think he’d do it even if I didn’t pay him to.

Every outburst, every moment of uncertainty, or unpredictable rage never bothered him.

Through it all, Trey always made me feel like it’s okay and would state that containing it makes it worse.

It’s almost as though he’s the older brother that I never had.

In a way, that sounds so fucked, knowing I don’t reach even a percentage of that status of importance to Steven.

Trey’s out of my sight within minutes of us entering the semi- crowded dance floor, which I’m making my way through like a maze.

If I could simply get a beer, I’d start to feel a lot better about how busted up my face is starting to feel.

The strobe lights make it even harder to get a good look at where anything’s at.

It’s a shame I’ve been here so many times that I can direct myself around with my eyes practically closed.

I don’t think I’ve danced even once here.

Boringly, I choose to sit and people watch while I down beers, and if I’m lucky, there might be a football game or a mixed martial arts fight on to entertain me, aside from the bartender, Bobby.

I’m sugar coating myself a little when I say boring, but I don’t think engaging in promiscuous acts in public should count as fun.

I might not dance every night, but I have no problems finding conversation.

And unfortunately for some, I still show my face even though there’s a few women who like to come because they’ve seen me here before.

At first, it’s weird, but then it always results in us saying nothing, even though we both know that we were up on each other in one of the bathroom stalls like animals, mere days ago.

I’ll make eye contact, then pretend I didn’t, and then she’ll usually ignore me until we’re out of each other’s sight. Tonight, though, I had a strict plan. Beer and zoning out.

As I get closer to the bar, I watch as Bobby cleans different glasses, taking a look at the large television above him every chance he gets.

The bar isn’t full.

Since everyone is on the dance floor, most of the seats are empty—all but four.

Two seats are taken by what looks like a couple, sitting close together and fondling each other.

Another one is occupied by a middle-aged man, texting at full speed on his phone, and the last one is taken by a younger woman who looks to have ginger hair, but it’s unclear due to the lighting.

There are seats beside her that no one is occupying, so I leave two seats between us as I sit down, throwing my hood up over my head as I do.

“My boy!”

Bobby cheers, pointing at me. My hand raises for a lazy wave.

“Bobby. What’s up, man?”

“Beer?”

he asks, as if he needed to confirm.

“You got it.”

I nod once, sighing as I watch him move into action.

Immediately my eyes shut, attempting to close out the entire environment around me, until a warm, dulcet voice calls from beside me.

“Do you think I could have another cosmo, please?”

Then an aluminum beer can drops on the counter in front of me, forcing my eyes to dart towards it.

After noticing, I give Bobby a look as he shuffles away.

My eyes follow him until they meet the voice who requested another cosmo, landing on the ginger-haired girl.

It’s half up, half down, running all the way down to the small of her back.

Something about the color is suddenly distinctly familiar. The way some streaks are lighter than others, how the structure of her side profile displays itself under the lighting. It seems a little implausible.

Except it’s not, because as her hair tosses and her face turns in my direction, she reassures my curiosity. It’s the Noelle girl.

“Thank you.”

Her cheekbones rise as she smiles at Bobby.

Now I didn’t want to close my eyes. Looking at her seems a lot more fitting. She’s even more enchanting in person than in pictures. I want to call this a coincidence, but in what universe do these odds happen? If it weren’t for me being authentically attracted to her, I’d say something about said coincidence, but saying anything feels like it would be stupid. Especially if she’s with Daniel. That would mean he’s here, and he’s not far behind. Hitting on his girl right after I dogged him in the ring would put an entire tub of icing on the cake.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Bobby asks, tapping the counter with his hand to get my attention.

Inhaling a bit of air, I double-take at his presence, speaking in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, you could do me a favor, actually? Is she alone?”

I ask. His eyes move from me, to her, then back at me”

No—well she came with a friend and a guy. The two of them have been dancing for the past hour while she’s been sitting here.”

He chuckles, grabbing his dish rag.

I’m going for a long shot, but this might be my only shot”

Well, uh—put it on my tab, would you? All of them. Leave it open until they’re done,”

I say, resting a forearm on the counter”

But don’t make it a big deal.”

Bobby nods, looking at her again before walking over. Hoping not to seem obvious, I pick up my beer, finally taking a few sips, but listening for any discourse.

“Are you having anything else tonight, hun?”

he asks her.

She lets out a dragging sigh”

Guess not. I dunno about my friends, though,”

she says, half smiling as if it pained her to say that.

Friends. Colton, you’re a lucky man.

“Alright, well your tab is paid for. You just lemme know what you want,”

he responds.

Her face tightens in confusion, poking her chin out”

I-I’m sorry, by who?”

Bobby chuckles and says, “Take a wild guess. There are only a few people here to pick from.”

Chugging more of my beer now, I stay frozen in my vicinity, pretending to mind my business. Bobby continues to dry different glasses, walking down the bar as she watches him, wildly looking around until I feel her gaze fall on me.

“Hey!”

she says loudly, reaching her arm out and tapping on the counter.

I can’t tell if she’s pissed or not by her body language. All I know is she’s probably not going to hold back with whatever she is going to say—instant karmic effect on my behavior from tonight.

Turning my head, I set my beer down and return the greeting loud enough for her to hear me.

Both of us are now eyeing each other down.

She slowly drags her arm back to her personal bubble, almost speechless at the sight of me.

Our eyes connect again, just like earlier tonight.

Only this time, I can see the green in her eyes much better than before, and every detail on her precious face that could be highlighted by the awful lighting.

It didn’t matter how terrible the environment was, because she’s that illuminating in person.

I know my face looks like shit, but I don’t think it’s that bad.

Distracted by her, I almost forgot until just now. Whatever she was going to say slipped right back into her brain, and after a couple of blinks, she eventually has a few words.

“Um…you didn’t have to do that. But, thank you,”

she says, resting her hands in front of her.

Still in a trance from our stare-off, I deliver all I can think of”

I know. I wanted to do it. You’re welcome.”

By the look of her not avoiding eye contact now, I’m utterly confused if I ruined my one chance or not. Saying more might be risky, but I’ve never been more tempted to get a woman to talk before in my life. I want her voice to keep blessing my ears for the rest of the night. As much as I wish they would, having those thoughts isn’t going to make her pay more attention to me, and neither is eyeballing her like a crazy ass.

“Shouldn’t you be out there? Dancing with your friends instead of watching?”

I suggest, whipping out a scoop of courage to further our encounter.

Tossing a bit of hair over her shoulder, she looks at me, pursing her lips briefly”

Please. Let me know of one person out there right now that’s worth my time, and I might think about it. Maybe.”

She shrugs, bringing my attention to her bare shoulders and the thin, black straps running over them.

Resting her chin on one of her shoulders, she looks me up and down.

“What about here at the bar? Anybody worth your time here?”

I ask, grasping at my beer again, my eyes never leaving her.

She squints, looking around us, and observes the man who has been texting madly.

“You think the guy furiously typing out paragraphs is a good dancer?”

she asks, watching him.

“Unless he has some sort of app that’ll teach ‘em, I wouldn’t get your hopes up,”

I respond.

Her head snaps back at me, this time without the disinterested mug. Her lips stretch into a smile that could make me buckle. A small smile, but enough for me.

“Either you thought that was incredibly cheesy, or, hopefully, I genuinely amused you, but that’s the first time you’ve smiled since I saw you tonight,”

I vocalize the moment the smile is apparent to me.

My lips replicate hers, as I’m unable to keep a straight face now. Her dark pigmented lips are too perfectly placed upon her face for me to do so.

“So, you were watching me then?”

she implores.

I can’t tell if this is satire or if this is where the vibe shifts”

Were you not watching me first?”

I challenge, lifting a finger to point at myself.

Leading with a pause, she keeps her small smirk plastered on her face whilst taking a few sips from her drink.

“You’re very benevolent,”

she says, taking a sip of her drink”

How’s that been working out for you?” she adds.

A sly smile creeps along my cheeks, pinching at my scar, “You’re still talking to me, so,”

I pause and nod, “I would say it’s working quite well.”

Her smirk turns into a shy smile before she sips more of her drink, nearly finishing it.

She stands up now, her long legs covered in sheer, black stockings.

One of her boots makes a step toward me, making me retrieve my gawking glare from her legs back to her face.

By now, she’s inches away from me, holding out a dainty hand with gold rings around multiple fingers.

“I’m Noelle,”

she says, her smile now showing her pearly whites.

I can’t help but notice that only one of my sizable, bruised hands could hold both of hers in its palm as mine completely encapsulates hers. She’s not fazed by my egregious scars or bitten fingernails, either.

“Uh, Colton. I’m Colton.”

I gently take her hand, shaking it as I fawn over her soft skin squeezing mine.

“You’re a great fighter, Colton. Kind of unbelievable,”

she says, slowly releasing my hand to clutch her sweater.

Yeah, she’s definitely not dating him. No way.

“If it’s coming from a woman as gorgeous as you, I must be doing something right, huh?”

I ask, leaning back in my seat, pushing my hood back off my head.

Her eyes jump to different parts of my face and head as she bites her lip.

“So, do you dance, Colton?”

she asks, still looking at me with deep interest.

“There’s not one rhythmic bone in my body, but if I get to look at you all night, I’ll do whatever you want me to,”

I say, a chuckle slipping out.

She sets her bag and sweater on the counter, near my beer, and exchanges it for my hands, pulling me from my seat and giving me no time to consider an exit plan. My shoes barely hit the floor before she steals me away. Her red hair swings in front of me as I follow her lead, watching her slender body slither through different people until she has me right where she wants me— right in the goddamned middle of the dance floor. Strands of her hair smack my chest as she turns her head over her shoulder to look at me, pressing her back against me as she sways her hips. Stunned by the quickness of it all, my arms freeze in place, watching her as she treats me like her own sort of dancing prop. Honestly, she’s breathtaking and she knows it. Her eyes are big and glossy, accentuating her wispy lashes as she moves her

entire body, pushing it against me.

“C’mon!”

She laughs over the music, grabbing my hands and lifting them over her head as she moves her body around mine, forcing me to watch her circle me like her prey.

It’s like something out of a movie, the way she drifts around me.

Like a slow-motion film.

Her hips pop in the sexiest yet most elegant fashion. Each of her limbs predict every little beat and treble. Locked in would be an understatement for me.

“You aren’t very good at this!”

she sings over the music, giggling.

Smiling shyly, I look around briefly, feeling almost embar- rassed. I wasn’t expecting to be put on the spot so fast. But looking around wasn’t changing the circumstances for me any time soon.

Slowly but surely, my body began to move with hers. The difference was that she felt the music.

Whatever power she possessed was making me no longer embarrassed about my own skills.

She isn’t even watching me, but I’m watching her, and she’s lost in it.

All I need to do is follow her lead. So I do, which is all I need to start to feel like we are the only people in this place.

Then the song is over. And another one passes, and another. Soon enough, I lose count.

If you asked me, I would say we danced for hours.

I mean hours upon hours—to a point where my sweatshirt had to come off.

I didn’t want it to be over, watching her laugh and twirl around like a pretty little fairy.

Like they always say, good things must come to an end, and this end felt like a punch to the face.

All of a sudden she was stopping me, just when I was feeling it.

Pretty disappointing considering ‘feeling it’ was half my battle this entire time.

I’m telling you, I swallowed my pride by dancing.

A woman, close in height to her, approaches us with eager intentions. She then starts grabbing her arm, urgently yelling over the music.

“Elle, we have to go!”

she protests.

Noelle turns to look at her, then back at me, her hands tangled in mine as she yells, “I have to go!”

“Wait. Could I like, get your phone number or something?”

I yell back, holding out for a good answer.

She doesn’t ask any questions as she reaches into her friend’s purse and finds a felt pen. Taking only a few seconds, she then uses it to write her number on my arm, followed by her name.

“I’ll see you around!”

Noelle looks up into my eyes, gripping my arm.

I part my lips, unable to find words in time.

Her friend yanks her so fast that we only share a lingering glance before she’s out of my sight. I am left alone in the middle of the crowd, dumbfounded by the idea of her.

In a matter of seconds, she disappeared, leaving me lost in Noelle-land, but only for a moment.

Trey rushes into me from the side, grabbing my shoulder”

Let’s bounce, it’s getting late!”

he asserts over the blaring bass.

I nod in agreement, shouting back, “Let’s do it.”

I’m possibly being impractical, but tonight is different to all the other times.

I’m leaving a fight with one more tally on my roster, but I don’t care about that.

Instead, I’m more wrapped around a woman I know I’ll never probably see again. It would have to be a sign if I did.

A very large, obnoxious sign.