“If I knew, I’d have tracked them down myself and kicked their scrawny packages so hard that it gets lost in their digestive system,” Jazz huffs. “Just random fans. I dunno. They don’t put their names on the envelopes.” She rolls her eyes and finishes the dregs of her diet soda.
“So gross. I haven’t gotten much fan mail yet. But, if I ever get dick pics, I’m burning them,” Talia says with her face twisted in disgust. She’s even pushed her tray away, appetite lost.
“Well, I have gotten some nude pics from female fans, too,” Travis admits, his cheeks a little red.
“Ohhh?Really?And pray tell what do you do with these risqué gifts?” Jazz asks, doing a pathetic job of hiding her jealousy. “The correct answer is to return them to the sender… Or just straight up burn them.”
I snort, spitting out my drink. I fucking love Jazz. She’s guaranteed to put you in a good mood.
Travis chuckles, holding her tight against his side. “They’re in ashoe box in my closet. They got nothing on you, baby. But, some of them are ininteresting positions.Wanna see?”
The two stand up and scurry off to have some weird, jealousy-induced sex.Lucky bastards.
“Guess we’ll bus their trays,” Talia says, picking at her shrimp. “Were you asking that because you’ve gotten some creepy mail, Mar?”
I slump in my chair, chewing my food slowly as I think. I shrug my shoulders, thinking it’s not a big deal anymore. Looks like everyone gets weird fan mail. I haven’t received dick pics, so I guess that makes me pretty lucky. Seems like it’s just part of being an athlete in the spotlight. It’s part of this life.
“Yea, but nothing too bad,” I say, trying to convince myself.
I finish my food quickly, eager to take a shower.
“I’ll see ya later, Talia. Great training today.”
“You’re awesome, Margeaux. Excited to be working with the Queen of Chaos,” she says, shooting me a wink.
13
JON
I’m not a good person.
I cheated on my girlfriend. I lied to her. I’vebeenlying to her.
My mind is stuck on Margeaux.
Sammy is back home with his mom. I smoothed things over with Wendy, and she was more understanding than I anticipated. She’s simply heartbroken that Sammy is dying. We all are. I’ve never felt so helpless.
Nicolette is leading the charge in us moving in together. I just keep telling myself that I got swept up in the novelty of Margeaux. She’s so magnetizing. Nicolette is beautiful. I can’t ignore that. She won me over with her sweet, bubbly nature. I liked that she also worked in the medical field and cared about helping others. She’s smart. She finished college and comes from a good family. She offers a life of stability—something I’ve always wanted.
Then, why am I sitting in my apartment alone on this Thursday evening, with my phone on silent, my door locked, and my TV tuned into PEW’s Thursday Night Throw Down? Because I’m not a good person.I’m a bad guy.
I can wear the white coat and offer the best care to my patients. None of that excuses my behavior the last couple of weeks. I’m hurtingNicolette every time I think about Margeaux; every time I wonder if Margeaux is thinking about me. Picturing myself in bed with Margeaux.Fuck, to bury my face between her muscular legs and hold her thick ass in my hands.Of course, I’m already semi-erect just thinking about her. I want to memorize her tattoos and learn what they mean to her. Her poison ivy tattoos should serve as a warning to all men. Once you get a taste of Margeaux Wild, you’re doomed.
I’m an addict. I’m addicted to Margeaux Wild. And like every other addict, I keep telling myself this is the last time that I’ll think about her. That I’ll allow myself this last indulgence.Bad people lie to themselves, too.
The TV screen comes to life with the opening logo of the PEW strobing, with bright lights, and clips from previous matches playing in the background. The live crowd is going crazy, holding up signs for their favorite athletes. If I were standing in that crowd, would Margeaux even notice me? She’s probably already forgotten me. I’m nobody. She’sMargeaux Wild!She has thousands of fans. I’ve stalked her social media, tempted to reach out to her. It would be pointless, and so pathetic. She saw her opportunity to leave me in her rearview mirror and took it. She probably has hundreds of guys reaching out to her, wanting a minute of her time. The mere thought of other men talking to Margeaux has me feeling a certain type of way.
I vaguely pay attention to the initial matchups. I’m impressed by all the athletes. Their bodies are well-trained. I try not to feel self-conscious when looking at some of these dudes. This one guy, Travis “Ice Man” Hurley is massive. He’s the size of some of the tractors from our farm growing up. I’d hate to be in the ring with him.That’s the type of guy Margeaux wants.
After a couple of matches, I’m noticing that these wrestlers are all shapes and sizes. As a shorter guy, it’s easy to feel likeI’m not man enoughbecause of my height. Seeing one wrestler named Maurice Fontaine—a French wrestler—just dominate the ring, despite being the same height as me. He’s also more muscular, but he’s taking on guys way taller than him, and showing that short men can be kings, too. Maybe I’ll watch his matches more in the future.
It's finally time. Margeaux’s match is being announced. She strutsdown to the ring. She’s wearing a black and purple sequined, two-piece outfit. The top is a deep-v sports bra,and it looks like it’s leather. It shows off the tattoos on both her arms perfectly.She has a belly button piercing too.Her black hair is framing her face in waves, and it looks like she added a couple of purple streaks to the front, which makes her dark eyes pop even more. She grabs the microphone from the ref and smiles out at the crowd.
“Some of you may know that I’ve recently caused a little trouble,” she pauses, pinching her thumb and index finger together. The crowd yells a mixture of cheers and boos. She opens her arms and encourages them to get louder. “I hope the world is starting to learn who I am, and what will happen if you cross my path.” Another pause. A devious smile. I’m leaning forward, hanging on her every word. “Chaos.”
The crowd gets so loud and wild.Like her. I wipe my bottom lip free of drool.
“I’mhere to put you in your rightful place!” Another female voice roars from a distance and Margeaux looks around, trying to find the source. From the top of the ramp, a medium height, well-built. blonde woman dressed in a bright blue two piece comes stomping towards the stage. “I may be new around here, but I’m not scared to show you that the world doesn’t want chaos. The world wants me, American Beauty.” This woman, who I’m now learning is Talia Tanner, looks like a classic beauty queen, pageants and all.
