Chapter 5 Rock Bottom

By the time Maya regained consciousness, the crowds had dispersed, leaving behind only the stale scent of cigarettes and sweat. The underground arena's usual electric atmosphere had faded into an oppressive silence.

"Arghh..." She slowly sat up from where she was lying, wincing as pain shot through her body like shards of glass. Now, she finally understood why Gummy hated her so much – this was exactly how Maya had always left her opponents: broken and battered. Every breath felt like fire in her lungs, and she could taste copper on her split lip. Her face, usually described as beautiful, must look like a battlefield of bruises and cuts.

She managed to gather her battered body up, the cool concrete floor beneath her palms as she pushed herself to standing. Her eyes searched for Vicky, but her so-called best friend was nowhere to be found.

Vicky had made sure to disappear before Maya woke up, no doubt to avoid her wrath.

"Fucking backstabber," Maya hissed through clenched teeth, clutching her side as she limped toward the locker room. "Just don't fucking let me see you with my eyes."

After changing into her normal clothes – a black hoodie with black ripped jeans and black boots – she loosened her hair and retied it properly, wincing as her fingers brushed against tender spots on her scalp. The familiar motions felt foreign with her trembling hands.

The walk to her boss's office seemed longer than usual, each step sending jolts of pain through her body. When she arrived, she found Blanco's eyes blazing with anger, the usual warm welcome replaced by a tension so thick it felt suffocating. Unlike the usual times when he would shower her with praise before handing over her pay, today the atmosphere crackled with barely contained rage.

Maya studied the man's dark expression and sighed. Though he surely sensed her presence, he refused to acknowledge it. The silent treatment cut deeper than she expected – she had become nothing more than a disappointment, a pest in his eyes.

"Mr. Blanco, I-I'm sorry," Maya bit her inner lip before apologizing.

"Who was it? Who had the audacity to spike your drink on my turf?" Blanco asked, finally meeting her gaze with eyes that could freeze hell.

Maya bit her lip but remained quiet. The truth about Vicky's betrayal sat heavy on her tongue, but she swallowed it back. Despite everything, she couldn't bring herself to sign her former friend's death warrant. She knew Blanco would ensure Vicky never drew another breath if he discovered her role in tonight's disaster.

Gummy had known Maya trusted Vicky implicitly, and she'd exploited that trust perfectly. But what Maya couldn't understand was how Gummy had managed to buy Vicky's loyalty.

"I have always told you to be careful, Maya Miller." Blanco's voice boomed against the office walls, causing Maya to shudder and lower her gaze. "You're supposed to be vigilant, knowing your status here. But no, you wouldn't listen. You prefer parading around like you have nine lives. You're lucky they didn't poison you."

Maya flinched at his words. Vicky wouldn't have gone that far... would she? The memory of Vicky's tears before the match suddenly took on a darker meaning.

A tiny flutter of warmth touched Maya's heart at the hint of concern in the older man's voice. However, her delusion was quickly shattered by his next words.

"Do you know how much you made me lose tonight?" Blanco asked, his voice as cold as a morgue.

"Hmm..." Maya couldn't help but sigh. Why had she expected anything different? To Blanco, she was nothing more than a walking ATM, an object for profit.

"I will see you around in six months' time, Mr. Blanco." Maya stated flatly, too drained to care anymore. She had enough on her plate without worrying about this old money-grubber who called himself her boss. Her sister's life hung in the balance – that was what truly mattered.

"And where are you going?" Blanco hissed as she turned to leave.

"To go gather my shit together, Blanco. Six months of training and resting isn't such a bad idea." Maya didn't bother stopping as she walked away, each step echoing with finality.

---

"Hahahaha... ahh!" Maya's bitter laugh ended in a sharp wince. She'd momentarily forgotten about her split lip and the constellation of bruises painting her body.

Instead of heading home, she'd chosen to drown her sorrows at her favorite bar. And as she did so, she was slowly pulled into her world of lost possibilities.

Where does she go from here? Her heart was heavy, emotions all over the place. She didn't know what to think at all. Her entire situation was enough to bring tears to her eyes. And now, the one person who had always been her rock had betrayed her in the most brutal way.

What kind of life was this?

Taking another sip of her beer, the bitter liquid matching her mood, Maya sighed in regret. If she'd known about the spiked drink, she never would have accepted the second part of the deal. Staying away from fights for six months was too freaking extreme with her current situation. Not only had she lost tonight's fight, but she'd also lost her means of earning money for her sister's medical bills.

She had unknowingly gambled with her sister's life.

"I'm just a fucking loser," Maya muttered, her voice thick with emotion. She blinked rapidly as tears formed, but her usual strength failed her. No, she wasn't supposed to be weak or dramatic – so why were the tears coming?

But they wouldn't stop, blurring her vision until she finally let them fall freely. Even the toughest person would break after a day like this. The betrayal from Vicky twisted in her chest like a knife, sending fresh tears down her cheeks.

She had tried calling Vicky countless times, at least to hear the reason why, but each ring went unanswered.

"Is this seat taken?" a deep voice suddenly asked.

Maya quickly wiped her tears before looking up to see a man standing beside her table. A tall and handsome one at that with broad shoulders beneath a dark jean blazer, brown hair looking a little disheveled but fine too, and eyes that seemed to read every thought crossing her mind.

"No," Maya replied, her voice hoarse from crying. She wasn't in the mood for company, but something about the genuine smile he offered made rejection feel unnecessarily cruel.

He extended his hand. "Ethan Reyes."

"Maya Miller," she replied, accepting the handshake. His grip was firm and warm.

"May I?" Ethan gestured to the empty chair across from her.

Maya shrugged. "Sure, why not?" Normally, she would have sent him away with a cutting remark, but tonight, the thought of sitting alone with her thoughts seemed worse than entertaining a stranger's conversation.

Ethan settled into the chair with an easy grace, signaling the bartender for another round. "What brings a woman like you to a place like this on a night like this?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness despite the cliché question.

Maya scoffed, taking another sip of her beer. "Just trying to relieve some stress. Nothing special."

"Fair enough," Ethan nodded, accepting her vague answer without pushing. The bartender arrived with fresh drinks, and Ethan thanked him with a generous tip.

"What about you?" Maya asked, more out of courtesy than genuine interest. "What's your story tonight?"

Ethan's smile dimmed slightly. "Same as yours. Life gets heavy sometimes. This place helps lighten the load for a while."

Maya studied him over the rim of her glass. It was obvious neither of them wanted to share their real stories. Fine by her.

"Well then," she raised her glass. "To... whatever we're escaping from."

"I'll drink to that," Ethan clinked his glass against hers, his eyes never leaving her face.

They both drank deeply with silence momentarily stretching between them.

Outside, Maya and Ethan were oblivious of the eyes watching them from somewhere across the street. Dark figures lingered in the shadows, their gazes fixed on the bar's entrance.