Chapter 3
Elara Keane was at a loss for words. Benjamin was a looker, no question - she was just stating facts...
She went into her usual soothing mode: "You're easy on the eyes too, Charlie."
Charlie Keane tossed back his head, "I'm hotter than him, hands down."
The youth was fixated on the screen, where Ryker Draven dominated as a light heavyweight boxer, easily over 6ft tall, with a physique that screamed 'perfect for the ring.' After Ryker had laid him out cold in their last bout, Charlie was sold on the idea that the guy was pro material. He'd hit up Google the next day for the deets, using the name "Benjamin Hayes," but no dice - that wasn't the name he fought under.At the tender age of seventeen, Charlie had tasted his first knockout blow - a wake-up call that stung his pride and ignited a fire for a do-over every time it crossed his mind. He was a walking, talking emblem of teenage spirit.
With his boyish charm and carefree headspace, Charlie was all about that fresh-faced vibe. But 'Benjamin'? That dude was a whole other level - seasoned, with a boxing style that whispered silent thunder, a perfect blend of youthful vigor and grown-man game.
There he was, 'Benjamin Hayes', lighting up the TV screen, his punches clean and mean, his moves slick as a whistle. For a girl like Elara Keane, 'Benjamin' was the full package, her aesthetic dreamboat. But she couldn't help but coo over Charlie, stroking his hair like he was the cutest pup in the pound, "Yeah, you've got the looks on lock."
No sooner had the words left her lips than the TV erupted with hype: "Holy smokes! The Ace lands a KO!"
Boxing, man, it's like a shot of pure adrenaline, snatching up all your feels and attention. Elara was hooked, eyes glued to the screen, watching 'Benjamin' bask in his victory, his smirk saying it all.
Then, the sound of Charlie chucking the remote like it was on fire: "Crap!"
Elara whipped around, eyebrows raised: "Dude, what's your damage?" Was he getting flashbacks to his own public KO?
Charlie bolted up, killed the TV, and gave Elara the look, scratching his head like it was bugging him. "TV's trash tonight. Hit the books, will ya? I'm gonna pound some pavement."
The kid was a dynamo, not one to veg out on games. He was all about that daily run life, squeezing in some gym time to sharpen his boxing edge.
Elara gave him the nod: "Do your thing."
She eyed the lifeless TV, itching to see the end of the bout. Charlie slipped into his blue tracksuit, limbering up as he bounced out. Elara grabbed a drink. He hollered back, "Yo, sis, I'm out. I'll snag you some of those sweets later!"
"Cool."
Elara watched him dip out, then beelined to the TV, desperate to catch the rest of the match. But boxing rounds are like lightning - over in three minutes - and she had zero clues what round they were on when she'd hit pause.
When the screen flickered back to life, Ryker's show was done, swapped out for the light heavyweight face-off. It wasn't popping like Ryker's fight, and after a hot sec, her interest nosedived. With a flick of the switch, she called it quits and bounced back to her room.Exam season was breathing down her neck, and she was all in, prepping for good GPA and killer SAT.
Ryker Draven, all sweat and swagger, fresh from the ring and still riding the high of victory, was the kind of guy who owned every inch of the space he inhabited. The reporter, practically buzzing with excitement, was all up in his grill with the mic, spitting out stats like they were going out of style. "Dude, you're like the knockout king of college boxing. Started throwing punches before you could even spell 'fight' and snagging titles like they're going out of fashion. You're playing in the varsity league with pro-level game. Some peeps are crying 'unfair advantage.' Whatcha gotta say to that?"
Ryker, the red robe hanging off him like a cape on a superhero, just flashed that million-dollar grin that had fan hearts racing faster than his jabs. "Hey, in the ring, it's all about who's the baddest, right?"
The reporter was shook, nodding like one of those bobbleheads. That line? Classic Ryker. The guy had the same chill vibe when he snagged the championship belt last year.
And just like that, 'The Ace' was born. The dude who ruled the ring, no apologies.
Post-interview, Ryker sauntered back to his coach, all casual like he didn't just set the whole place on fire. Luke Stone, his teammate and a solid boxer in his own right, threw him a fist in the air, all goofy grin and mock fangirl vibes. "The Ace is straight fire, bro."
Ryker couldn't help but chuck a playful kick his way, tossing out a laugh and a "Scram, you're cramping my style," but still bumped fists to celebrate the win.
For Ryker, this college gig was a walk in the park. The real deal was the Celestial Fight Club and snagging a spot on the Olympic squad. This was just the warm-up act.
*
During time when Elara Keane was staring down the barrel of her college applications, her bro Charlie was on full-blown protective mode, like some kind of personal Secret Service, all puffed up and promising her the moon once she was got in.
And she did. College offer in hand, Elara is finally finding some peace of mind.
June 8th, the end of the last final and Elara's birthday all rolled into one. Charlie was being all mysterious about her gift, looking like a cat with a secret, making her all antsy with anticipation.
When the final bell rang, and the cheers and the sound of textbooks meeting their end filled the air, Elara was chill. Waiting outside, she caught sight of her ride-or-die since middle school, Victoria Wells, bolting towards her with that 'we slayed it' grin.
"How'd it go?" Victoria beamed, all breathless and pumped.
Elara just smirked, confidence oozing. "Nailed it. Farewell, Crestview."
"And Avalon U, here we come." Victoria shot back, the two sharing that 'we're gonna conquer the world' smile.
Their dream? Avalon U's Medical School. And they were on their way. Elara's phone buzzed to life, and before she could even swipe to unlock, Charlie's ringtone was blasting through the speaker. "Yo, sis, what's the deal? You're MIA post-exam apocalypse. Spill, anything up?"
She couldn't help but chuckle, "Chill, bro. Just waiting on Vicky. I'll be out in a hot sec."
Charlie was practically bouncing on the line, "Well, make it snappy!"
Vicky, all grins, leaned in close, "Is that Charlie the adorb?"
Elara killed the call, a playful frown on her face, "Dude's plotting some top-secret birthday surprise for me. Acts all hush-hush when I grill him." She shook her head, laughing, "Let's bounce."
"Girl, you've got it made. A bro who's basically your knight in shining armor and easy on the eyes? Unreal." Vicky teased, slipping a tiny gift box from her bag into Elara's hand, "Big bash with your crew tonight, same digs - here's a little pre-party love. Happy B-Day, Elara."
After a quick hug and a promise to party later, Elara was scooped up by Charlie, "Appointment's calling our name."
Elara, puzzled, "Appointment for what?"
Charlie, all mystery, "You'll see."
Fast forward thirty, and Elara's standing in front of a posh dental clinic, courtesy of Charlie's dragging. A tad bewildered, she's introduced to Dr. Diana Draven, who's all professional charm, "Here for a little toothy makeover? Let's have a look-see."
Elara shot Charlie a 'what's this?' glance.
Charlie's face was all sunbeams and excitement, "Sis, time to get those rebel canines in line. No more tongue-fencing with 'em. They're all over the place, and you need some pearly white bling. Been dreaming of fixing them since I cashed in my first paycheck, but braces? Nah, didn't want to cramp your style or mess with your headspace during SAT season. So, waited it out."
Back in the day, Elara's chompers were a hot mess. Elementary school was a braces battleground, and she wasn't about to be a casualty. Then came middle school, and suddenly, braces weren't social suicide anymore. She was about to go for it, but life threw a curveball with dad's health scare and his job going poof. Eight grand for a metal mouth wasn't on the table, and she never brought it up again.
Those canines? She'd poke and prod at them with her tongue like it was her personal fidget spinner. But the thought of getting them straight? On the back burner.
But Charlie? He remembered.
Her heart did one of those warm, melty things. This kid. She vowed to up her sister game to legendary status.
Remembering college, Elara sighed, "But, like, entering college with a grill? Not exactly a glow-up."
Charlie's grin didn't waver, "Trust me, sis, you'll rock those braces like nobody's business. It's the era of geek chic. Plus, think about it - it's like a boy-repellent. No messy dudes sliding into your DMs for a while, right?"
Dr. Draven flashed her a reassuring smile, "You're a total knockout, sweetie. Braces can't change that. It's a quick in-and-out deal. You'll be flashing that Hollywood smile before you know it - just a year and a half tops."
Next up was the full dental photoshoot: X-rays, molds, the whole shebang.
Three days from now, and she'd be part of the braces club.
Bouncing out of the ortho's office, Charlie was all, "Hold up here, will ya? Gotta grab some H2O."
Elara wanted to tag along but Charlie was already gone with the wind. So there she was, loitering at the clinic's entrance, fiddling with her shoe and absentmindedly poking her tongue at that pesky canine tooth. Her mind was like, "Happy birthday to me... Guess it's braces over an iPhone or MacBook."
Lost in her thoughts, she clocked a tall figure in a sleek black tracksuit, a total snack, and looking vaguely like someone she should know. Elara was zoning out, couldn't put a name to his face. She kept lowkey staring though, scrolling through her mental Rolodex to ID him.
Ryker Draven was on the phone, his voice a smooth melody, "Gotta drop off something for pops to moms, be there in a sec." Call done, phone pocketed, and then bam, he caught sight of this girl giving him the eye like she's trying to crack a safe.
She seemed kinda familiar.
Ryker gave her that slow once-over, then peeped at the clinic sign.
She stopped tonguing her tooth, mouth slightly agape.
He clocked the tiny canine, looking all fierce like a kitten with attitude, and it hit him - she's the girl dating that dude who got KO'd by Ryker's fist.
That's when it clicked. He'd bumped into the same kid earlier, buying drinks at the 7-Eleven.
Meanwhile, Charlie's back from his water run, "Yo, I just saw Benjamin Hayes lurking around you. He try to chat you up or what?"
Elara's brain finally booted up, "Oh snap, Benjamin Hayes! That's why he looked so familiar."
Ryker paused mid-stride, glanced back with a look that said, "Seriously?" He'd totally spaced that he'd used 'Benjamin Hayes' as an alias in the ring a few months back.
He shook his head and bounced, leaving Elara and Charlie in his mysterious, smoky wake.
Author's deets:
Ryker Draven: Am I a joke to you?
Charlie: Bro, you're the punchline!
Elara's just facepalming, sending SOS vibes to her bro to chill.Elara, playing the peacemaker as usual, threw her brother a bone with a casual nod and a smirk. "Yeah, sure."
Let's spill the tea on this chapter: Elara's about to become the "Braceface" of the year when she scores some dental bling for her b-day. Quirky, right? Not everyone's cup of Joe, but hey, I'm vibing with it. To all my ride-or-die readers, you're the real MVPs.
Time for some real talk: In the boxing world, it's all about the weight game, so fighters get weighed before they throw down. Like, in the Olympics, there are 11 weight classes. My boy Charlie Keane is slugging it out in the middleweight division with an upper weight limit of 160 pounds, while the heartthrob with fists, Ryker Draven, is the king of the light heavyweight with a weight limit of 175 pounds. We're talking featherweights to heavyweights, peeps.
And for those shipping Elara and Ryker, he's only got a couple of years on her - she's 18, he's a ripe 20. So, no stress, their love story isn't creeping into cradle-robbing territory.
