vanilla // lrh

twelve

//hello my lovelies!! real quick i updated the cover do u like ??:)

this chap is up super quick but i was just so excited to write it !!

I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO TILL I COLLAPSE BY EMINEM AS U READ. I THINK IT SENTS TO MOOD. ALSO I LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER!//

The atmosphere was tight.

Tight was the only way I could think to describe it.

Tension practically spilled from the walls, like tears from a child without candy.

Luke held a tight grip on my hand, weaving us through the crowd, which wasn't too difficult, as people got out of his way without hesitation.

The 'arena' was lit dimly, making all skins glow yellow, and all eyes were focused on the ring in the center, screaming cheers of joy at each punch.

Luke stopped at an empty place in the crowd, swinging his body to the front of mine.

"Listen," He said, lowering himself to me.

"You see that man in the corner?"

I glanced past him at the ring, to a man dressed in a tuxedo, short and bald, with an old fashion microphone in his hand.

"When he asks for bets on me, I want you to bet 500."

"Five Hundred dollars?" I gasped. "I don't have that much money."

"Don't worry," He laughed, a witty smile spreading across his face. "You won't be losing any money."

"Hemmings, Let's go," A dark voice called, empty, and cold.

Luke and I turned to the man, who was much smaller than his voice made him out to be.

"Don't leave with anyone," Luke said, before he turned to leave with the man.

I swallowed hard, breathing in the atmosphere around me.

Wasn't this type of fighting illegal?

There had to have been two hundred people surrounding the busted out ring, how had they not been caught?

The ring, or 'match', as Luke called it, was located deep in an alley downtown. But the noise created from cheers of bidders could be heard from miles away.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, and you too Chrissy," erupted from the speakers, as my attention was pulled to the center of the ring, where the man in the tuxedo stood.

"We're headed into our main event. Are you ready to meet your competitors?"

The crowd bursted into screams of joy, the feeling was electric.

"First, from our very own streets, weighing at 190, Mr. James Alexander!"

A man with blonde dreadlocks sorted his way through the people, receiving slaps on the back as well as hollars of admiration as he made his way to the ring.

"And from deep, down under," The man announced, his voice carrying, and leaving intimidation thick in the air.

"Standing at six-foot-five, 220 pounds of pure Aussie, Luke Hemmings!"

My heart raced at the calling of his name, goosebumps jumping across my skin.

The cheers from crowd were filled with more 'boo's', and not as warm of a welcoming as Luke shuffled through the crowd, and onto the stage.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him, the way his porcelain skin looked underneath the dim lights, his body only covered in a pair of black shorts, bright blue gloves covering his hands.

He had a mouth guard hanging out of his mouth, chewing on it viciously, and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Would anyone like to start off the betting for Mr. James Andrews?" The well dressed announced called, as screams of numbers acted as responses.

"Do I hear 75? 100?"

A woman of middle age in a dark dress waved her hands violently in the hair, hollaring 150 again and again.

"150 to the lady is blue!"

"And for our Aussie 'mate'?"

The reaction from the fans was the same negativety as before.

Luke's eyes fell on me with blank expression, twirling his mouth guard around his mouth.

"500," I choked, slightly raising my hand.

"Excuse me miss?" The announcer said, narrowing in on me, as I felt the weight of the population of the room on me.

"Five hundred dollars." I said, louder, with more confidence.

"Wooooo! Five hundred dollars! That's one hell of a bet, young lady!"

I smiled at Luke, who held his head high in the air with confidence. I admired how confident in himself he seemed, even with dozens of people doubting him.

"Alright folks, you know the rules,"

Luke and his opponent stood opposite each other, both slightly slouching, even though Luke still towarded over him.

A bell rang three times consecutively, and almost as if on cue, a red glove smacked Luke across the face, causing him to slightly stumble back.

I caught myself gasping, knowing that blood would definitely be dripping from his face, just like when Ashton punched him at the party.

Luke stormed at his opponent, hitting him rapidly across the chest.

The crowd erupted in cheers after each punch, numbers shouted from every corner of the room.

"700 for Luke? Do I hear 700?" The announcer called, as I watched the man with the red gloves straddle himself on top of Luke, and begin to strike Luke again and again, until Luke flipped the man over onto his back, knocking him square in the nose.

"1,000! 1,000 for Luke!"

I winced at the violence that unfolded in front of me, watching Luke repeatedly hit a man much smaller than him in the head, but also thankful it wasn't Luke being hit so forcefully.

"1200!"

Luke pinned the man with one hand on his throat, and the other on his wrist, and the man patted viciously against the mat.

"For 1200! We have a winner!" The announcer shouted, making his way toward the center of the ring, as Luke stood, and his opponent curled into a fetal position of pain.

The proper dressed man grabbed Luke by the hand, holding it up in the air, and Luke smiled, blood trickling down his face, as he spit his mouth guard out.

"Mr. Luke Hemmings!"

The crowd's cheers became astronomical, as they suddenly all wanted to be fans of Luke.

He looked like something I had never seen before, glistening underneath the lights, chest heavily rising and falling, with crimson streaks running out of his nose.

His eyes moved down to me, crowd chanting his name, and he smiled, a smile so full of life.

In that moment, I had never seen someone so alive.