Natalie
Las Vegas, the city of sin.
I’ve been here a couple of times, but the city never seems so alive as it does tonight. Even from inside the limo, I can feel the raw energy that crackles through the city streets. There are thousands of people walking down the streets, all of them happily discussing something. Some of them even throw fake punches against an unseen opponent, playing out the scene inside their heads.
Even though I can’t hear what any of these people are discussing, it doesn’t take a genius to know what the subject is; they’re talking about the Fight of the Century. While everyone is completely crazy about it, I’m just sitting here, dreading the moment these two look into each other’s eyes.
I won’t even bother to tell you how many sleepless night I’ve spent trying to think of a way to stop the fight. Everyone would hate me for it; after all, the fans want what they want, but I wouldn’t care.
I just want my men.
I even thought of jumping into the ring and telling Hunter about everything that happened, and how the story hit the newspapers. But I know that he wouldn’t buy it. He’d just see it as some kind of ploy to distract him. And so, I’m condemned to see the two men I love shed blood.
“Hey,” Logan whispers, squeezing my hand in his. “It’ll be okay. Whatever happens, happens. Either way, it’ll be over soon.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, looking out the window. Right now I can’t look at him, or else I wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears. I can already feel their sting on my eyes. “It’s all my fault…”
“No, Natalie. This was bound to happen, sooner or later. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Thank you,” I just tell him, not knowing if I should believe him. However I look at it, I was the one setting the whole thing in motion. If I knew how things would turn out, I doubt I’d go after them and write those profiles… But then again, if I hadn’t done it, my path would have never crossed them.
“Here we are,” Logan says as the limo halts to a stop in front of a private entrance to the MGM Arena. The security staff jumps out from the SUV in front of us (and from the one in the back), and they immediately form a security cordon around the limo. “Let’s go,” he continues, opening the door and stepping outside. I follow after him, my heart beating anxiously, and let him lead the way.
Once we’re inside, standing in one of the hallways that leads to the locker rooms, Logan just pushes me against the wall and crushes his lips against mine. “One last kiss for good luck,” he smiles, and I press my forehead against his and close my eyes.
“Good luck … and be careful out there,” I plead, even though I know it’s impossible.
“I’ll be careful,” he promises me, but the tone of his voice doesn’t help me calm down. I watch him walk down the hallway, standing tall, and I sigh as I realize that the next time I see him, he won’t be my man… but a fighter loved and hated by millions of people. A God among mortals.
“Jesus, this place is a maze,” I hear Michelle cry out at the end of the hallway. “I wasn’t sure if I’d able to find you in here,” she tells me, walking toward me as the click of her high heels echo through the hallway. Since Logan didn’t want me to be completely alone during the fight, he got me one extra ringside seat, and I just had to bring Michelle along with me.
“Let’s go,” I tell her, grabbing her arm and dragging her after me. A few minutes later and we step into the arena, a cavernous space capable of holding almost twenty thousand people. The spotlights are already trained on the ring, right in the center, and the atmosphere feels electric. Even though there are still a few hours to go until Hunter and Logan step into the ring, the whole arena and everyone inside it seem gripped by a kind of nervous excitement. This is a once in a lifetime event, and everyone in here knows it.
“Jesus, it’s still early and the whole place is already packed,” Michelle tells me as we walk up to the ring. We take our seats while a few journalists snap our pictures, and I’m starting to feel so nervous that I don’t even reply to Michelle. I just sit there in silence, hearing the excited chatter of the crowd as they wait for the event to start.
We remain sitting there for three hours straight, watching every single preliminary card before the main event. Unfortunately for the fighters that have signed up for these fights, it seems that no one is really paying any attention. Sure, there are some oohs and aahs, but you can tell that the whole audience is still in that excitement phase, the hunger for the main event growing into a fierce monster.
Finally, when the last fighters finally step down from a ring and all lights go off, I think my heart stops beating for a few seconds. A lone spotlight hits the center of the ring, bathing the presenter in a strong light - white haired and in a sleek suit, he grabs the mic and smiles at the crowd, allowing a kind of respectful silence to grip the whole arena.
“Ladies and gentleman,” he starts, his deep voice echoing throughout the arena. “This is it… It’s time for the main event, what you’re all here for! The two best fighters in the world will finally settle the question - who’s the best of the best? THE FIGHT OF THE CENTURY HAPPENS NOW!” He shouts at the top of his lungs, and the crowd completely loses it.
It’s the fight of the century, alright.