The match looked to be coming to an end, Noam was the legal man, Cedric in complete control. Tony was on the apron hand extended to Noam, who was just too far away to reach, I groaned under my breath. "C'mon Noam. . ." He hadn't won a match since he returned from his injury a few weeks ago, as much as that upset him, I think it bothered my brother more. Mainly for selfish reasons since the GM, Maverick, kept teaming them together.
Mustafa Ali stepped through the ropes and charged straight for Tony, both of them crashing off the apron with a thunderous thud. Cedric landing his finisher, the lumbar check, on Dar.
1, 2, 3
The bell rang, the ref lifting Alexander and Ali's hands. I hated seeing him lose, watching whatever confidence he has slowly getting chipped away at. I was about to head to the curtain to interview them when movement caught my eye.
Tony climbing back into the ring yelling, his hand holding the back of his neck. Noam stumbled up, confusion written on his face. He said something back, it looked like "I'm sorry" but I can't be sure. Go, defuse the situation! My head screamed but I was paralyzed watching in utter shock just like the audience members.
This wasn't like him--okay it was, but never to Noam, Tony adored him. He'd been like a brother to him and now here he was shoving him down to the mat again. He signaled for someone to hand him a mic and they quickly obliged. "Dar. . ." He trailed off into the mic, an exhausted, almost manic, chuckle escaping his lips. "I don't know why I waste my time on you. You're hopeless!" He spat out, I gasped tears burning my throat from the look on Noam's face.
My boyfriend was climbing back to his feet, his voice now audible from Tony's mic. "I'm sorry, just give me one more chance. That's all I need." His hands clasped together as he pleaded.
Disgust spread across Tony's face and I could feel the tears finally slipping down my cheeks. "Premier athletes don't work with people who can't get W's." The mic fell from his hand before Noam could respond he scooped him up and quickly landed his finisher.
I wiped at my eyes and hurried my way toward the ring. "What are you doing?" I shouted, the palms of my hands slamming into my brother's hard chest. "That's your best friend, Tony! You can't just turn your back."
"I don't work with losers, period." He growled pushing past me.
"Tony," He froze but refused to turn around, my head snapped over to the voice and was relieved to see Noam was standing, mic in hand, his other arm clutching his midsection. "At least one Nese doesn't think I'm a waste of time." That boyish grin pulling at the side of his mouth.
My jaw dropped, I could literally feel the life drain from my face as the crowd gasped. My cheeks burning with everyone's eyes on me. I turned to Tony who was already glaring at me, my mouth opened to say something but the words wouldn't come. Rage grew in his dark eyes as I bit down on my bottom lip nervously.
Those scary eyes snapped to the Scottish man in the ring, "You're dead, Dar!" He lunged down the ramp at full speed.
"No, Tony, please!" I begged as I ran after him. I slid under the ropes best I could. Tony already had Noam trapped in a corner strike after strike. "Stop!" I cried, pulling at my brother's arm. Blood coming from either his knuckles or Noam's face but I couldn't tell which with my blurred vision. "Please, I love him!"
That seemed to have got his attention, he swung around, his nostrils flared causing me to stumble back. Everything in me urged me to check on Noam, just one quick glance to make sure he was at least breathing but I didn't dare. I couldn't risk Tony's attention being forced back to him. "What the fuck did you just say?" He shouted. I backed up a few more paces.
"I love him. . ." I said far less confident, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
He stared at me in disbelief, "It's him or me, Ever." I swallowed hard, this wasn't fair, why couldn't I have both? "Choose!" I winced at his sudden outburst. "I'm walking up that ramp, I suggest you follow me." Tony's shoulder bumped mine as he brushed past me and for the first time I looked over at Noam.
He laid limp, his head propped up on the bottom turnbuckle, brown eyes vacantly staring up at me. Without a thought I rushed down to him, wiping the blood away from his mouth and sweeping his bangs out of his eyes. "I'm sorry." He choked out.
"Shh, I've got you, love."
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. . .Yeah, that was my attempt at writing about Noam Dar . . . lol I feel like it was painfully obvious that I don't watch 205 Live 😳 but hey I tried and that's the point of this book; to work on my "craft" as my lovely mother likes to call it lol One good thing did come from this tho, I'm gonna start to watch 205! Thanks for the request Styles-Balor4eva I really hope you enjoyed this!
