It's common for anger to get the better of me, always. It's like a destructive incoming force that would squash me anyway if I try not to let it out. Anger is my better half- it gives me strength and breaks my restraints. When I was angry, everybody turned into a foe- everybody became faceless- when I let anger break the little rationality in me for a temporary period, all I see are fiery enemies in the darkness of my perception. The memories of the ruckus I'd caused in the club is a constant reminder of my doings- yet I can't justify whether it is right or wrong. Not this time. The same sentence rings in my head every now and then subconsciously, making me feel like a criminal.

"Your temper is becoming your monster and you're succumbing to it."

Am I succumbing to it?

"You're distracted today, Achelois," Elide mutters as I barely dodge her attack. She almost got me. "This is not like you, Achelois," she groans and drops her stance, "You're awfully out of it today," she walks out of the spread of mats, "Take a break."

"No, it's-"

"No buts, Achelois," she gives me a pointed look, "You can't do it well if you're thinking about something else. Have a break and tell me what's troubling you, if that's fine with you, of course." She hands me a bottle of glucose and slumps down on the bench. "You still hold your own pretty well when you're not into it."

"It's normal, Eli," I shrug, "I've been doing Krav Maga since like, I was eight or something. I've been pitted up against a lot of guys. To survive, you need to be strong."

"Good ideals," she sends an impressed smile my way, "You have a way with words, don't you? They hit hard." I shrug in response, and stretch my left arm as I hold the sipper bottle in the right one. Elide pats beside her on the bench, "Sit down." I sit down, in no mood to object and make a big deal out of it. Placing the bottle between us, I put my elbows on my thighs and look sideways towards the sky through the glass walls.

Learning self-defence is not a skill anymore, it is a raw necessity. I've practiced Krav Maga since I was eight, with a couple of kids from our neighbourhood. We went to a Krav Maga Center together all the way till high school and split into different directions for Uni, but since most people belonged to my class, the one for the select kids, we all landed up in Harvard, almost. We continued Krav Maga there under the sports and arts section. However, since it was most guys that took Martial Arts as their Sport Choice, I was usually pitted against guys. And however much I didn't care, I'd always loved to win, so I'd never whine because I was pitted against a boy- I'd decided to get stronger as a woman and hold my own.

I'd never given up on Krav Maga. From just an interesting art, it had become a necessity. Having spent all my life learning and practising Krav Maga, I would say that the craft taught you spontaneity and prepared you to use your best prudence when in a tight spot. It came with mind conditioning and the ability to read the density of a threat in a given situation.

"We could go for a drink. Skip class today, focus on what you're worried about."

"No, thanks," I smile and brush it off, "It's nothing, actually. I'm just worried about nothing much. Plus," I laugh heartily, "Too close. The last time I went for drinks, it ended up in a mess." Elide laughs along with me. "Knowing you, I can't refuse anyways," she shrug, "Who did you almost send to death's door?"

"I wasn't into it, trust me," I laughed, "I just broke stuff and beat someone up, but not as intense as Krav Maga. The liquid was probably making me shaky and I was irritated, so I went with my instincts."

"I'd say it was your famous temper rather than instincts," she pauses and I stare at her as she puts her hands up defensively, "I know that word is taboo to you, but like you say, it is what it is."

"That's right," I suddenly realize, "It is what it is," I acknowledge and roll the words inside my head once again, "That settles it, probably. We should get back to another bout. I won't go easy on you anymore, do you understand?" I smile at her slyly and she sends it back to me, "Would be hell of a fight."

Elide is the Krav Maga instructor assigned to me. Back in the days, she was one of the senior kids in the batch of Krav Maga students at the center we used to frequent for Krav Maga lessons. She was probably a good four or five years older than me and probably one of the strongest female Krav Maga competitors I'd faced. It was only when I'd returned to the center to get an official membership when I realized that Elide chose Krav Maga as her career. She sure was gifted for the job, anyways.

We go at it again, Elide taking the defensive side as always, as I corner her and that's when she alters stances. It's a fact that when you notice your opponent's body movements, eyes and facial expressions, you'll get a basic framework of what they'll be doing next, a possible interpretation. I roll back and kneel down, swerving one of my legs and she jumps as it passes under her, but all I need is that split second to assess the opponent- and like that, I've gained an opening into the fighting. I notice her tightening her arm- a defense against my blow, so I switch moves at the last second and begin aiming for her right leg, but I know she's fast and will probably make it if my move is so obvious, so I twist my strategies twice this time round, making her believe that her right leg is what my target is. She begins to move her right leg back, staring at my left leg that I have raised in an action to hit her leg, but in that moment of focused carefulness of hers on one of my legs, I grab the chance to move my right hand swiftly and bring it down on her left shoulder. In a flash, my arm has hit and gripped her shoulder firmly as well, so maneuvering her body for a few seconds should be easy enough for me before she can release herself from my grip. Pulling her by her arm, I twirl her to my back and take her other arm in my grip, now in a better hold of her as her back faces my back and I hold both her arms over her shoulder and have snaked them around myself with my own arms. Slowly and carefully, I focus my energy on my left shoulder and push it back with a force and feel her shudder behind me. The grip is tight enough and she is unable to slip away but her shoulder must fucking hurt as she gasps.

"You're good, gal," she mutters, "Give me a fuckin' break. I need to catch a breath," she mutters and I release her and start stretching my shoulder. My shoulder hurts a bit too, anyways. She looks at me from the corner of her eyes as she drinks water and then grips her right shoulder and massages it. "You got me good. You're far from distracted, I shouldn't have underestimated your concentration, gal," she mutters.

"In my defense, I asked you to come at me as hard as you could," I shrug, "Plus, no offense, but you're always choosing defensive when you're sparring me and you fucking know I have a good attacking ability."

"To cover for that one, you're not bad at defense either," she groans, "Gal, I might need to take the rest of the day off."

"Want me to take you to a medic?" I ask her and she shakes her head wildly, "No thanks," she refuses, "I'd rather die."

"Don't be dramatic and tell me if it's unbearable," I roll my eyes.

"You should- she always attacks to kill."

I frown at the sarcastic voice and turn my head and find him leaning against the doorway. Now, isn't that one too many awkward coincidences?

"Well well well," Elide half smiles, "If that isn't Wolfe Theodore," she says amusedly, "Running into old friends all day and now I'm afraid I won't be able to fight you, this gal's got me good."

"In all flesh and charm, Elide," he nods with a smile, "You played well," he compliments and I'm unable to miss the slightest pinkening of Elide's cheeks. Ladies and gentlemen, that's the Wolfe Theodore charm, but it comes with a warning like the cigarette packs come- Smoking kills and so does the Wolfe Theodore Package.

"Your friend there almost chipped my shoulder. I made a blunder, man," she groans, "Ace has gotten so much better, bro."

"I'd like to find out but I'm well aware of the consequences," he smirks, "You're easy, Elide. But Isa lacks physical brute strength like you, but her plot twists cause severe damage and she has good analytical and strategic skills, so I wouldn't bat an eye if she won a hundred times over, especially now that she thinks much more mindfully than rushing in wildly."

"I don't rush in wildly," I grunt in defense and threaten to chuck the remaining glucose in his face before he challenges me.

"Fight me, little bird."

We spend the next half an hour sparring without a break, getting in numerous deadlocks, but I can feel him holding back. His moves are fairly unreadable, it's his eyes that give away his strategy. I know I can't possibly grab a brownie point with a headbutt- I'll just break mine in turn. He rests with a passive stance, his eyes ever so wandering. A sheen of sweat rolls down the side of my face and I can feel the gears turning in my head, planning my next attack, but I stare at his abdomen as if that is what I'll hit. What's a better strategy than a childish foolproof plan?

He runs towards me and just when he is about to land a punch on me, I swerve my body towards the right and entangle him in a cross body punch and elbow his side, but not quite. He is quick to untangle himself from my hold which might be frail enough for him to break through. He balances on his toes, thighs and calves parallel to the floor, in the same position that I had trapped Elide in. When he swerves his leg under mine, I change my position, moving to the side instead of jumping the way Elide did. If I want to win against Wolfe, then I must apply my brains- because he has both brain and muscle and he's quite good at this thing- so I'll have to work my brain twice as much to cover up for the lack of strength. He gets up to his feet before I can make my decision and swerves his leg in an uppercut back kick but I cartwheel backwards- one of my pro points. If I don't get to the centre of the mats, it'll become a bonus for him and he might just beat the shit out of me after cornering me, so I put up my hands in a defensive stance. He eyes me cautiously.

Just when I begin to think I'm getting to a more commanding of a position, he aims for my right leg and my instincts make me jump back and roll under the gap between his legs, and the next second, I'm behind him and shoved my knee at his torso, holding both his arms as tightly as I can. He can flip me over if he tries very hard, but he doesn't.

"Hell of a match," Elide calls out in a crisp voice, "I'd get a real orgasm watching that, knowing my obsession with sparring. I'm clearly no match for that gal," she points at me and begins to crack, "-a flexible body you've got there."

"I'm excited to see what else this flexible body can do," Wolfe says in a silvery voice that feels like a thousand spiders crawling down my spine as I interpret the double meanings in his words. It's awkward and my inner woman shakes her head furiously, face unusually pink. Hey, wasn't I more of a warm undertone hued?!

He hangs around for some time as Elide retreats inside the staff-only quarters to get something done to her arm. I must have hit it pretty hard, then. Wolfe checks his watch every now and then.

"I'm not holding you back, am I?" I mutter, "Go if you're getting late. I'm not scared or anything-"

"Don't give yourself too much credit," he eyes me with a displeased face, "I'm not sitting here to protect you. If anything, you scare others, not the other way round." I elbow him in the abdomen but he shrinks back, "No more, I'm pretty done for the day." I hum in response before a spontaneous question hits me suddenly, "Why did you show up here today?!"

He rubs his head with a half-smile, "Eh, I bought this place a few months back."

"Whoa," I roll my eyes, "Just how rich are you?" I snort, "If I were you, I'd invest in banking and buying out shares instead of stuff like this."

"The difference is," he smirks, "The money is mine and so is the final decision making power. And bird," he shakes his head as if explaining to a stubborn child, "You won't understand how much money I make out of this. People frequent fight clubs and bars a lot more- I keep in mind the popular choice rather than the moral one."

"Fight clubs, huh?" My eyes widen in curiosity. "Sounds pretty complex but also very appealingly scandalous," I grin, the smile melting onto my face as easily as a popsicle on a hot summer day. He breaks out into laughter next to me, "Appealingly scandalous, eh? You still have quite a way of dancing with your words."

"For that part, there is nothing else I despise as much as dancing," I turn my nose at the subject, "I'd prefer hanging from a tree by my ankles."

"That's a vivid piece of imagination and I'd like to explore more to note down the levels of weirdness you can display; battling verbally with you is my choice of spending time in the best way possible, but unfortunately, my job morals would chew me out if I were to be gossiping with your crappy ass." His eyes gleam playfully as he gives my own words back to me. I almost knee him but he defends himself just as fast. "I'll leave now, Alaska Ice," he mutters.

"I'm not as cold and unemotional as you, little bird. Which is why I'm relieved," he makes an act out of shuddering, yet I still feel nothing. Nothing at all.

"What am I, then?" I laugh curiously and look forward to his answer.

"I'm humane, woman," he shakes his head and points at me, "You're Alaska Ice."

The memory from nine years back hits me like a truck, unleashing the memories of the time we used to binge watch action series and a lot of them got sad when their favorite characters died. Characters they were, after all. A figment of reality- a piece of insignificant illusion that would defeat us if we managed to show any emotion. When the writer could make you feel, that was when you handed the reins of your life to him but that is the very point when the writer has succeeded.

Emotions make you weak.

"Fine, Lut Desert," I shake my head in exasperation, "You sure need a break from my hotness."

"Daydreaming at this hour ain't no good," he says in a sing-song voice as he twirls the car keychain furiously around his middle finger and raises his arm in a gesture of a wave. I do not bother to return it and instead brace my palms on the edge of the bench, crossing my ankles and looking sideways, the orange-ish sky illuminated by the New York lights, a really soothing sight to my soul.

Picking up my gym bag, I sling it across my shoulder and leave after checking up on Elide, who assures me it won't take long for her to be okay. I decided to leave her a casket of refreshments the next time I'll be here, as a get-well-soon gift. I need to start giving myself and everyone around me a break.

I sit down in the cafe at the ground of the mega mart building and hang my jacket at the back of the chair and place an order for a cappuccino freddo, and whip out my phone, checking up on the latest tweets with the finance hashtag. Sure, historically, coffee has been a controversial choice for hydration because it's a significant amount of caffeine – a diuretic – which can thwart your hydration efforts. But, a study revealed that caffeine doesn't interfere with hydration; moreover, infusing high-carb drinks with caffeine helped refuel muscle glycogen stores quicker than beverages without caffeine.

My coffee lies in wait under a smooth layer of frothed cold foam. With just a splash of milk, the Iced Cappuccino offers a balanced cup with a stronger espresso flavor and a velvety, frothy foam with a crisp, cool undercurrent. The pillowy clouds of milk foam atop a cappuccino eventually give way to the rich, dark brown coffee hiding below. I sip slowly as I turn the music on and sway just slightly in my seat, pressing my airpods into my ear.

When I'm done with the coffee, I place the money and the tips and walk out of the cafe. It is not until I'm outside the cafe and the cool New York breeze hits my skin deliciously that I realize that I've left my jacket inside. I walk inside, excusing myself between the rows of the tables and pick my jacket up, sliding my arms inside the sleeves until I spot a familiar mass of brown hair, now with streaks of grey in between them. I walk hesitantly towards the table, not sure about my steps yet my feet moving on their own instinct.

"Dad."

This is how the mind breaks.

A/N:-

That'd be Chapter 13! Hi, ducklings! First of all, no ranting, I just wanna thank y'all for being so generous! The book is soon going to have 2K views and I'm so excited! Thank you for supporting me since so long. A special note of thanks to my biggest supporters- Sirenqueen46 , funnyteen8 , Nayasha_Jena , Anxietygirl_1405 , chigirlsfantasy , Vish_Star , andrea_seamurr , Omah005 , Annabeth_Hespanha , anonymouswriter237 , anjila2 , Ammaspet and so many more! I love you all.

Our school finally decided to give us summer vacations but, it is an illusion, after all. We're getting special NTSE coaching from school, we're doomed af. Apparently, we aren't supposed to kill the vacations and study hard. My foot. I'm exhausted.

QOTD: Which movie is your favorite?! I have quite a lot of favorites. I love all horror movies, first of all. And I'm an avid anime-watcher as well. WandaVision too, even though it's a miniseries. Also, if I've started talking of series, Originals, Legacies and so many others. I'll go on and on. Sitcoms, Friends, Brooklyn 99, How I met your Mother, TBBT and so many more.

Tell me if you like the chapter. Also, what do you think about the events that'll follow?!

Like, share, comment and let me know if you liked it!
With love,
Disha😍👊