Harold Beaumont's Bruises

Next Day

Harold's POV

"My friend thinks you're cute." A red head smirks up at me. Leaning into the bar counter to get too friendly with me. "I'm the friend."

"No thanks." I say simply, staring down my glass with a tired look. Being a boxer is always tiring. From early mornings, then more practices, endurance training, core strengthening, doctors appointments, to just getting the crap beaten out of you is exhausting. I'm always tired. Always. But today I'm just spent, zombie like. My entire body sags over the bar, the only thing holding me is the stool and my elbow propping on my jaw. I'm too tired to even drink.

Still hungover, Toby doesn't look much better. We came to a dim hole in the wall bar where it's so empty the loudest voice is just above a whisper. His shades came off for the first time all day, now sitting on top of undone blonde head. His clothes are on inside out. His life of the party personality is nowhere to be found, he's being as quiet as me in effort to focus on not puking.

"Can I have your number?" The redhead doubles down.

"I don't have a phone. I threw it into traffic." Not taking me seriously, with a huff she leaves me alone. I did throw away my phone. Noelly kept calling when she couldn't find me at the gym, because I was in a closet with Joey. No doubt Noelly is waiting for me back at my apartment, filling up my voicemail box to the brim. I might not even go home tonight.

Girls are exhausting too.

"How do you say sorry to a girl?" I ask Toby. The first time I didn't do it right. I got caught in the rain in my best suit and didn't even give Joey the flowers I got her. Just dumped them outside her building. I couldn't do it.

"Why you asking?" Toby's usual smirk isn't there, but after a big mouthful of scotch a dimple pops out. "We've done this already."

"I just know you have a lot of practice." I retort dryly.

"Don't be an asshole to begin with. Then you don't have to apologize." Toby points out. It's too late. I've been the biggest bastard in New Orleans all month.

"I'm serious."

"Harry, you're always serious." Toby finally cracks a small grin. Cocking his head, he thinks it over. "Actually I think that's the right way."

"What?"

"To take apologies seriously." He explains.

"Anything else?" I was looking for a step by step answer.

"If I keep talking I'm gonna barf on you." I smirk to myself. I do need the laugh.

"I think it's time we leave." I point out, even though I haven't taken a single sip.

"Only if we get the greasiest pizza on the way." Toby moans, dropping his head into his hands. The man needs gumbo and ginger ale. Toby always parties a bit harder halfway through competition season.

"Whatever's on the way. Hey man, can I crash at yours tonight?"

"Of course. After Noelly's freakout today at the gym you're gonna need witness protection. You know that's gonna be the first place she looks for you, right?"

"That's tomorrow problem. I can only handle one at time."

——————

"I need you to be honest with me." Joey lands on the bench so suddenly I nearly miss the punching from doing a double take over my shoulder. I'm not sure what to do with Joey anymore. Ignore her? Joke around with her? Pretend to be friends with her even though being around is one of the hardest things?

"I thought we weren't talking." Seriously, which one is it? She still hasn't answered me about the friends thing. Are we friends again? I don't know anymore.

"Am I going to need to get another job?" Joey goes straight to it, her face tight with worry. It's an unsettling sight, she's usually smiling for the most part.

"Are you going to quit?" I fire back, hating how fast I got use to her here.

"No, I don't want to." Joey gives her camera a sad look.

"I just got back from Mr. Bernard's office, and... Noelly is just making it very hard to do my job. Every time I take a picture of you... my job gets threaten."

"Don't take her seriously." Is all I can manage. I know it's bad advice. It's best not to move too suddenly around Noelly. You never know what she might do.

"You're the gym's title holder. How can't I take pictures of the champion? The site needs the clicks, and Mr. Bernard doesn't like those broody shots Noelly wants. I just need to know if every time I take a picture of you am I getting closer to losing my job?"

My eyes fall shut, a vein in my neck near to bursting. Why can't things just be simple?

"No, no, I'm gonna make sure that doesn't happen."

"How?" And right when I open my mouth I wake up. I nearly fall off Toby's couch, a damp wet making me slide across the leather. I feel sick. Tired and sick.

Old Louisiana legend would say I dreamt a crossroad. Now it's time for me to pick.