CHAPTER 014
1396 Words
*PUBLIC HUMILIATION*
Flora's POV
The bar was dimly lit, the kind of place where broken people went to disappear. I sat hunched at the far end of the counter, nursing what must have been my fourth drink, or fifth.
The burn no longer registered. Everything felt distant, muffled, like the world had been submerged underwater.
My eyes were swollen from crying, my throat raw, and my heart felt like it had been shredded.
Tyler’s words kept looping in my head on repeat. Each time they replayed, the sting grew sharper. I had thrown everything at him and he had looked at me like I was pathetic.
Maybe I really was.
Fresh tears blurred my vision again. The pink cheerleading outfit was stuffed in a bag at my feet like a humiliating reminder of how far I’d fallen.
I had nothing left. No plan. No dignity. Just the crushing reality that tomorrow Megan would destroy whatever pieces of me remained.
“Flor, what the hell?”
Lucille’s voice sliced through the low hum of the bar. She stormed in, eyes scanning the dim space before landing on me. “I've been looking all over for you, where the f**k is your phone.” Her expression shifted instantly from frustration to deep concern the moment she saw my face.
“Lucille…” My voice cracked as fresh tears spilled over.
She rushed over and pulled me into a tight hug without hesitation. I buried my face in her shoulder, sobbing openly now, ugly, broken cries I could no longer hold back.
“It didn’t work,” I choked out between sobs. “Nothing worked…Tyler didn’t budge at all. He hates me. He thinks I’m desperate and pathetic.”
Lucille held me tighter, rubbing slow circles on my back. “No you're not, that asshole's words don't mean anything. It’s okay, babe. Breathe. It’s going to be okay.”
“But it’s not,” I whispered, pulling back just enough to look at her. My voice was raw and trembling. “Today is the last day of the bet. Tomorrow… Megan gets to destroy me and besides, what if I can’t pay the debt and everything just falls apart?”
Lucille looked deeply sympathetic.
She ordered herself a drink and stayed beside me while I kept drinking.
I glanced at the time on my phone. It was late already, but a desperate, far-fetched idea pushed through the fog.
I picked up my phone with shaky hands.
“What are you doing?” Lucille asked.
“Calling Megan.”
Lucille’s eyes widened. The call connected on Snapchat before she could say anything.
“Hi… it’s Flora,” I said immediately, voice trembling. “We need to talk.”
“Ohhh, Flora,” Megan mocked, drawing out my name like it was funny. “I hope you’re not thinking of pulling out of our bet. A deal’s a deal, you know.”
"Can we just talk about—"
Click.
The line went dead. She’d hung up on me.
I set the phone down slowly. Lucille and I drank in heavy silence after that.
*********
I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Megan's smile.
The next morning—the seventh and final day of the bet—the stadium was electric. Fans packed the stands, jerseys everywhere, the air buzzing with anticipation for what everyone hoped would be a decisive game.
I scanned the ice for Tyler, but he wasn’t there. For the first time since I’d arrived in Chicago, the rink felt strangely empty without his commanding presence.
The commentators’ voices filled the arena, echoing over the speakers.
“Welcome to what could be the game of the season, folks! The Hershey Bears are looking strong, but there’s one major absence on the ice today—Tyler Sinclair, the Devil on Ice himself.”
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd.
“No official explanation yet,” the second commentator added. “Injury? Personal reasons? Nobody seems to know. But one thing is certain—the Bears don't look the same without their captain.”
The game started without him. The absence felt like a missing force, a strong current pulled from the rink. Questions swirled in my mind and through the stands. Where was he? Why today of all days?
My phone buzzed in my lap with a text from Megan.
Meet me in the Cafe. Now. Don’t keep me waiting.
My stomach dropped like a stone. I stood on shaky legs, excused myself and made my way there, heart hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears. Megan was waiting at a corner table with two of her friends, all of them smiling like sharks circling blood in the water.
“Flora,” Megan drawled as I approached, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.
I didn’t respond, I couldn’t.
"Why so quiet today? Where’s all that big mouth energy from before? No more dramatic speeches?”
Megan scoffed "You embarrassed yourself every single day for a man who never wanted you."
I stayed silent, tears already burning behind my eyes. My hands trembled at my sides.
Megan laughed softly, clearly enjoying every second of my discomfort. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We have your little gift prepared already.” She snapped her fingers toward the back. “Bring him in.”
A man stepped forward. He was short, overweight, with greasy hair, a patchy beard, and yellow-stained teeth. His eyes ran hungrily over my body as he licked his lips. He worked as one of the stadium cleaners. The creepy, predatory vibe rolled off him in waves.
I felt sick to my stomach.
"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking.
Megan laughed softly. "Now you're acting like I thought you would from the beginning."
I dropped to my knees right there in the middle of the cafe. “Megan, don’t take it this far. I’m begging you. Please don’t do this to me.”
Megan tilted her head, savoring my humiliation. She held out a folded note with a cruel smile. “You're gonna read this word for word when I call you to the stage. Every single line.”
My fingers tightened around the folded paper.
Whatever was written inside couldn't possibly be worse than what Megan had already planned.
Her friends laughed loudly. The creepy guy kept staring at me like I was already his prize, his eyes crawling over my body.
They stormed off, leaving me kneeling on the floor like discarded trash.
I returned to my seat with swollen, red eyes and handed the note silently to Lucille. I buried my face in her chest and sobbed quietly, shoulders shaking for a few minutes.
“After this,” I whispered, voice muffled against her shirt, “I’m going off the grid. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.”
Lucille tried to speak, to offer comfort, but I shook my head. We sat in heavy, painful silence as the game came to an end. The Bears won, but the victory felt hollow to me.
Then Megan’s voice boomed over the speakers.
“Ladies and gentlemen… don’t go anywhere.”
A pause—the kind that made the entire stadium feel uneasy.
“We’ve got a little post-game entertainment for you.”
Everything in me went still. Cameras began to turn.
Whispers spread through the stands like wildfire.
Sometime during the post-game celebrations, Sean had found his way back to Megan. He sat beside her now, holding her hand like the perfect boyfriend.
Then—
“Flora Morgan. Please come to the center of the ice.”
Hundreds of eyes turned, everyone searching for Flora Morgan. My legs felt like lead as I walked out onto the cold ice, the note trembling violently in my hands. The crowd watched with curious excitement. Lucille stood helplessly at the edge, her eyes filled with pain.
I unfolded the note and started reading, my voice shaking so badly it was barely audible.
“I...I've done something incredibly unforgivable.” I paused, trying not to stare into the eyes of anyone seated. “I’ve captured the heart of someone I’m not supposed to tamper with, and I’m here to tender a heartfelt apo—”
A deep voice suddenly boomed through the speakers, cutting me off mid-sentence.
“Am I too late... Flora?”
- Writer
