Page 4 of Ruin

A commotion going on behind me catches my attention. I look over my shoulder. I can see people crowding around Scott. He’s still on the floor.

What’s going on?

I step away. Moving toward Scott.

Marcel stops me. “Where do you think you’re going?” he grits out between clenched teeth.

“Scott is still down.” I tip my head toward where he’s on the floor.

“So?” is Marcel’s response.

I hear a medic being called for. I go to move again.

Marcel tugs me back to the camera. “He’s fine. Leave him.”

I’m asked a question by the interviewer. I respond, half-distracted. Marcel starts talking about the fight.

I look back at Scott. The medic’s there, bent over him, shining a flashlight in his eyes.

“Zeus,” Marcel barks at me.

I ignore him this time. I pull away, quickly moving toward Scott again because I know this isn’t right. He shouldn’t have been down for this long. Something twists hard in my gut.

I push past the people crowding around Scott, almost reaching him, when I hear the words that will come to haunt me for the rest of my life.

“He stopped breathing. We need an ambulance. Now.”

Cam

One Year Later

That feeling…when the music is pumping, the bass pounding the floor beneath your feet, vibrating up your body…there’s nothing like it.

Not for me anyway.

Dancing has always been my thing. I love it. And I’m damn good at it.

I trained in ballet and street dance. But I dropped street when I was a teenager, as ballet was always the dream. It was everything.

I was at Juilliard on a full scholarship, eyes set on the New York City Ballet. I was in my second year when everything changed.

Those two pink lines on the test changed everything. And my future changed into something else.

And, even now, up here on this podium, dancing my ass off like I do every Friday and Saturday night, I know I made the right decision.

And, no, before you ask, I’m not a stripper. I’m a go-go dancer at this upscale club in Manhattan.

Granted, this wasn’t the stage I expected to be on when I was growing up. But life throws curveballs at you, and you have to go with them.

And my little curveball goes by the name Gigi, and I love her more than I imagined I ever could love anyone. She is the best decision I have ever made.

Okay, so she wasn’t exactly planned.

I was on the pill, but I had been with her father for four years.

He was my childhood sweetheart. The absolute love of my life. I thought we’d grow old together.

Obviously, it didn’t work out that way.