Finding August

Chapter Ten

There were loud shouts of protest as two built men went into the make-believe fight ring to separate the two fighters. The bigger one threw cusses as he was pulled away from his much smaller opponent. The smaller man was badly injured and barely conscious. He'd said something to piss his opponent off earlier in the match, and from the sound of cheering it was obvious that most people in the crowd felt he deserved the beating.

Vincent let his eyes wander from the beaten up man to the victor who was now pacing about the ring as a chant of praise broke out in the crowd. Street fighting had little to no rules and anyone who competed always went home with some form of injury or the other.

His eyes moved from the ring to the bench where fighters were getting ready. He could recognize almost all of them. Maybe there were a few new ones who he didn't recognize from being absent for too long.

Vincent used to fight, not for money but the simple rush of adrenaline. He used to fight as frequently as once a week but when August started staying with him and stressing about every small injury he decided to stop going, but August wasn't here anymore and the depression had more than settled in Vincent's mind. It was like a pesky cobweb he couldn't reach to clean. He felt like fighting — he wanted to fight.

All he could do at the moment was watch. There was a complex system in place that decided who and when they were scheduled to fight. It was like that so that bidding was possible.

Another fight soon began in the ring and people began to shout over each other's voices as they watched the opponents do everything from boxing, wrestling and punching each other.

Vincent watched as the two men tried to push each other to a corner, or attempt to make the other lose his footing. Fights like this weren't usually done in broad daylight in most places, but Vincent didn't live in the good side of town or state in general. There was barely any form of law enforcement, and the place had gradually had turned into the center of d**g dealing and illegal fighting.

Vincent's attention was soon stolen by the person that cast a shadow over him. He looked up to find his friend Pete hovering over him with a smile on his wide lips. He was a dark built young man who was a regular at the ring.

"Odd to see you here," Pete muttered, feeling his puffy sideburns. Vincent shrugged, watching as Pete settled beside him. Inspecting his friend, Vincent spotted a couple of scratches on his face. It wasn't as brutal as what people usually sustained, so Vincent concluded that Pete must have taken part in one of the much tamer fights that were set for the morning hours.

"Still mourning over whitey?" Pete asked, referring to August in a teasing tone. Vincent didn't find it amusing at all. Someone just getting up one morning and deciding to vanish wasn't funny in any way.

"He's not even white," Vincent muttered, avoiding Pete's question.

"He might as well be," Pete chuckled. "He's as pale as a newborn."

Vincent rolled his eyes. His friends paid so much attention to race that he found it uncomfortable. It made him wonder if there would have been a problem if August was actually white.

"But you miss him don't you?" Pete asked, looking over at the ring.

"Sort of," Vincent admitted, letting his gaze return to the ring as well. One of the fighters was cornered and was receiving repeated blows to the stomach. "I'm just trying to clear my head."

Pete hummed at that, making Vincent turn to watch him nod his head in approval. "There's nothing better than a fight when it comes to clearing your mind, am I right?"

A smile found its way on Vincent's lips. It was a sad smile, a hopeless one. He didn't know what else to do, and he wanted nothing and everything to take away how he felt about August. It was a frustrating situation. He wanted to hate August. He wanted to say 'damn you' and carry on with his life. The sad truth was that he couldn't, and he was conflicted over appreciating and despising the fact that he couldn't.

"Do you want to fight? I can ask one of the guys if they'll let you take their place. You know, just to get your blood rushing, nothing much," Pete offered, making Vincent let out a low laugh as he shook his head in refusal.

"I'm sorry. I'm only here to watch today, maybe next time," Vincent said, watching Pete nod before getting up. He watched his friend hurry towards the bleachers before returning his mind to the fight that was taking place in front of him.

After a few more games Vincent got up and walked home as he thought about Pete's offer. Maybe he should actually start fighting again. If he had to nurse a sore body, bruises, a black eye or a busted lip, he'd have less time to think about someone who was ignoring him.

He got home soon after, heading up the stairs to his apartment before fishing for his keys in his pocket to unlock the door. He was in the process of changing into something more comfortable when his phone started vibrating on the bedside table. The phone continued to vibrate, jumping about the table before tumbling onto the carpeted floor.

Vincent sighed, pulling the loose nightshirt he'd chosen over his head before heading to pick up his phone. From inspection, it didn't look broken, which was a huge relief because Vincent didn't think he could afford to change the screen at the moment. A sigh left his lips as he took to sit on the carpet to inspect the phone in his hand more closely. He pressed the start button, raising a brow in surprise at seeing who the missed call was from.

2 missed calls from August.

Vincent closed his eyes as he tried to register the reality. He never thought he'd see that ever again. He started wondering if he should call back, but what was he going to say if he did? Why was August even calling him to start with?

A feeling of irritation started to take shape within his mind as he continued to think. August had been ignoring him; did he really have to call him back right away?

Vincent decided to ignore the notification, and proceed to browse through his social media instead. A more distasteful frown too form on his face as he read through the headlines on his news app. Apparently August just had his first exhibition a day ago and it had been a success.

Good for him. Vincent thought, putting his phone aside before getting up. He was indeed happy that things were going just as planned for August, but he was starting to feel like one of August's side thoughts. How else would anyone explain August ignoring him for two weeks without even mentioning ever receiving his message?

Why would August call him now?

Vincent sighed, not wanting to dwell on the thought. He dragged himself to the kitchen to find something to eat before heading to the living room to distract his mind with a casual sitcom.

As he flipped through the channeled and munched on sweet biscuits his mind felt relieved. That was good- he didn't really want to think as it was. August would just have to wait for when he was in the right state of mind to reply.