All Again

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Harry

Then.

"Okay come on."
I winced as my hand connected to the pad, stinging my fingers again.
By now my knuckles were sore, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.
I punched again and again. Hitting harder and harder each time.
I blew out air, as the sweat from my forehead ran down my face.
"Alright time out." I heard my trainer call out, laughing as he dropped his hands.
"Give me a second to recoup."
I took a deep breath and was quiet as I pulled back.
I didn't need a break. I needed to keep going.
I needed to clear my mind.
I watched as he took a sip of his water bottle and I mimicked his actions.
The water felt good sliding down my throat, but didn't comfort me. My mind had been everywhere and nowhere for the last eight hours.
It was on a loop.
Becca and that guy. Becca and that guy. Becca and that guy.
I put my water bottle down.
"Are you ready?" I asked, getting back into position.
"Jeez. You didn't even give me a minute." he said raising his hands again. "You alright?"
"I'm fine." I muttered.
I hit the pad again.
He winced slightly and I felt slight guilt at the force of my punch.
I could still feel the burn in my knuckles, since the training gloves were crappy but as before, it didn't deter me from stopping.
I punched.
Once.
Twice.
Three times and he pulled back.
"Okay Harry. Hold on." he said.
I watched as he removed his gloves and shook his hands.
I turned from him and sighed.
Even with the protection of the mits, they were red.
"Sorry." I mumbled, picking up my water bottle again.
"It's okay." he said continuing to flex his hands. "But you might want to take it easy. You don't want bruised knuckles in the pictures today."
I rolled my eyes.
The Billboard Awards.
I wasn't even in the mood to go now.
In a few short hours I would be on a private plane, flying to Vegas for the show.
We were nominated and presenting so I had to make an appearance, but I was planning on hiding out most of the night.
She's going to be there...
I took a long swig of my water bottle, before tossing it in a nearby trash.
"I'm good." I decided. I didn't need anymore.
"You sure? You seem upset?" he asked.
I waved him away. I wasn't upset, I was irritated.
Two days.
It had been two days since I had spoken to Becca and since she had went to Vegas with her friends.
However, that wasn't what was bugging me.
It was the pictures I had seen last night.
By now, I had her Twitter name memorized-it was quite simple- and checked on there every now and then. I also had her Instagram name since she often sent links through Twitter.
That was what was pissing me off.
The pictures.
Since she had left with her friends she had been mum--I mean, not even one text.
It was weird and unlike her but I figured she was with her friends and they were probably keeping her busy so I wasn't sweating it. But then, last night I had seen the pictures she had posted with some random guy.
By now I had memorized his hands around her waist and the kiss he had placed on her cheek. I had memorized the photos of them sharing a shot and the wide smile on her face with the caption 'new friends'. I had memorized the location of the shot, which appeared to be her hotel room and lastly, I had memorized the hour-2am- that she had posted the picture and pretty much summed up that she must have spent the night with this dude.
That was what was bothering me.
She was blowing me off not only for another guy, but she had slept with him as well.
I wasn't naïve and I knew what happened in Vegas- especially during celebrations of 21st birthdays.
And yeah...there was no commitment to me.
We hadn't exactly had that conversation and she wasn't my girlfriend but it still hurt just the same.
I unwrapped the gloves from my hands and threw them down. Taking a seat on the bench, I unlocked my phone and saw I still had no new messages.
What was she doing?
Was she awake by now, or passed out drunk?
Was she waking up beside the guy or had he left shortly after their tryst?
Was she even thinking of me at all?
"Alright, well we should maybe go."
I sighed, agreeing.
I had gotten more than enough of a work out today and needed to get back home.
I wasn't packing anything since I was only planning on being in Las Vegas for a few hours, but there was work logistics that I needed to go over.
As I left the gym and headed back to Jeff's house, my mind was once again on Becca.
I didn't know many details but I knew she would be at the show tonight in some capacity. We hadn't spoke since she texted me about leaving town so I didn't even know where she would be.
Was she going to the pre-lim show or would she be sat in the main auditorium?
I wanted to ask, but I refused to text her.
If I was an afterthought, why should I give her the satisfaction of hearing from me?
I didn't have separation issues or even jealously, but I liked knowing that I was passing through her mind-if even for a second.
When I arrived at Jeff's house, I hopped in the shower, and changed quickly.
I would be flying with Jeff on his family's private plane, and then meeting with the boys at our temporary hotel.
I had no idea what I was wearing so I would have to go through an array of outfits pre-fitted and then once I arrived at the actual show, I would have to play the media game.
All of this on top of my frustration and a headache from my head cold that I was still suffering from.
"Hey man, you need a drink?" Jeff joked as we rode to the airport in Van Nuys.
"I do. A big one." I said.
He smiled. "Well I can get you drunk tonight if you want."
"No." I said quietly, flipping through my phone.
I was once again on Becca's Instagram and she had posted a new picture of she and her friends in bathing suits by the pool a few hours earlier.
My eyes scanned her surroundings and I was briefly relieved when I didn't see the guys from yesterdays' spread in the background.
"Are you planning on going to any parties tonight?"
"Nope." I said. "In and out."
I closed out of her page and set my phone in my lap.
I needed to stop checking. The more I looked at her photos, the angrier I was becoming.
If she had time to post a picture, she had time to shoot a text.
"Well you seem like you need one. You seem distracted."
I just sighed.
I wished everybody would stop pointing out the obvious.
So what if I was in a bad mood? I was liable to have one, once in my life.
"My head hurts." I said simply. "And I don't want to talk about it." I said with a finality to my tone.
I gave him a look and he knew to back off.
"Well when you want to talk about it, you know I'm here."
I said nothing more, since it was falling on deaf ears.
I just wanted to get today over with as soon as possible.

Notes