The dark vehicle glided quietly through the slumbering streets of Harborview, softly humming. Neon signs flickered by the windows but, inside, thick silence remained. Maya was gripping the steering wheel slightly more tightly than usual, with her knuckles white.
Finally, she broke the silence. "You know, Vince... I was totally shocked out there. I can't even explain when they booed me like that; it wasn't just like noise; I felt like a wall closing in on me. For a moment, I thought I could freeze forever."
Vince, who was seated with an elbow against the window, looked at her. He smiled just ever so slightly. "You think you were the only one sweating in seconds tonight? I was dripping backstage. If you fluffed, the whole thing comes crashing. But you didn't fluff." He nodded slightly.
"Congratulations, Maya. You made it work."
Her lips twitched up slightly from the compliment, but her voice quivered as she said, "I almost did fluff a few times. If I didn't just push through…" Maya just stopped and stared at the road ahead.
"There will be more soon," Vince interrupted, as if keeping things perfectly casual, though his eyes were anything but. "This is only the beginning. You might want to prepare yourself, because any crowd doesn't easily forgive. But hold your own, and they will respect you — even if they hate you."
The words hung midair, reassuring yet heavy.
And then there was silence again, not that uncomfortable kind, but the kind of silence that is begging for something that hasn't yet been said.
Maya opened her mouth once, twice, when she realized that her voice was stuck in her throat. She wanted to tell him how much it meant for him to be there in support.
She wanted to tell him how, amidst all of that venom, just knowing he was watching somehow gave her courage to continue.
But the words were still jammed.
Instead, it was Vince's voice that broke the silence. "My apartment is here."
Maya blinked, and when she slowed the car down she realized they entered the more affluent area of Harborview. The high-rises loomed above them, all glass and steel and lit with golden chandeliers lining the lobby.
It clicked now—of course Vince lived here. He wasn't just the owner of IRW, he was also a millionaire investor. This was his world.
She stopped at the curb. Vince released his seat belt and pushed the door open. "Thanks for the ride, Maya. Be safe getting home, okay?"
Briefly, a disappointment flashed across her face. She was half-hoping he would stay, half-hoping that he would invite her upstairs for coffee, or just to... talk to her. But she put on a grin. "Sure thing. Good night, Vince."
He gently shut the door and waved before walking toward the building. Maya's gaze remained on his back until the lobby doors closed behind him. She sighed, her grin weakening, then drove away into the night.
Inside the lobby, a strung-out fluorescent light buzzed in the stillness. The night watchman sat asleep in his chair, his cap pulled over his face as he snored softly. Vince shook his head and chuckled under his breath. He turned to the elevator.
Once he arrived home to his apartment, he dropped his keys on the counter, took off his jacket, and removed the buttons on his shirt.
Standing in front of the mirror, he saw himself. He had wavy dark hair that was down, green eyes bright, and a strong jawline. His cheeks were still a little gaunt, but when the light was right, he could have been mistaken for an emerging model.
A life in front of the camera could have been considered possible had it not been for the wrestling and investment obsession.
He looked down at his body. He was lean, maybe a little wiry. He had been going to the gym regularly for three weeks and while an ab wasn't there, he was a little less sickly thin; the sickly thin was fading.
He even felt like his shoulders were a little broader—a little progress. He smirked at his reflection and said aloud, "One step at a time."
He got totally undressed, and turned on the shower so the hot water could hit his body. It was also the first time he allowed himself to feel tired throughout the day.
The sound of the audience left his head and as he got out of the shower, dried off, and then shortly thereafter threw himself down in bed, he was asleep before he had a moment to really comprehend everything.
_______
When Maya stepped inside her dilapidated rundown apartment across town, she was greeted by dim light. She turned on the lights and dropped her keys into the bowl by the door with a loud clattering sound.
She slipped quietly toward her brother's room and cracked the door open just a bit. He was laid back sleeping on his bed, his chest rising and falling in a nice rhythm. Just as she was about to shut the door again, something caught her eye.
There, draped across the blanket was a black t-shirt, with bold white letters that seemed to glare at her: WHY MAYA WHY.
Maya blinked a couple of times then had a quiet laugh; her own brother was sleeping right there in a slogan that led half of the city to be against her. She shook her head and put the door shut quietly, all the while laughing under her breath.
Once back in the living room, she sank into the sofa and tucked her knees up to her chest. Her mind replayed so many things from that night; people screaming hate at her, Tracey's poise, Evelyn showing up, and even the scenes she was a part of.
It should have been the best day of her life. In some ways, it was. She'd been part of history, of something that felt bigger than herself. And yet…
Her smile faltered as she thought of Vince. She'd tried to hint, tried to linger, but he hadn't noticed. Or maybe he had noticed and chosen not to respond. Either way, it left her heart knotted.
She buried her face against her knees and whispered, "Why are all men so dense?"
Her laughter was soft and bitter at the same time. The night had ended with triumph, but also with longing unfulfilled.
AN: IMAGE OF VINCE IN COMMENTS