Chapter 4 : Incarnation

Jessica dragged me into the center of the dance floor, her hips already moving to the bass. My eyes devoured every inch of her—the line of her long legs, the curve of her hips, the definition of her abs, her perfect breasts. Her face was astonishing, locking me in a seductive gaze with every movement.

"Come, join me. Don’t just stand there," she commanded, her voice alluring.

I stepped in, grabbing her waist. Her eyes locked onto mine, dark and intense, as she draped her arms around my neck.

"This is how you danced with Nicole before, right?" she asked, her voice low.

"....Yeah."

"Do you like it?"

"Very."

She leaned in, her breath hot against my skin. "I saw Nicole kissing your neck, Tiger. Let me help you clean it."

Her tongue traced the exact spot Nicole had kissed. The sensation sent a jolt straight to my groin; I was hard instantly. She shifted, moving her lips to my ear.

"Someone’s excited," she giggled, the sound vibrating against me. "Let me help you clean your ear too, so there’s no trace of Nicole left on your skin." She took my earlobe into her mouth, devouring it.

"Fuck, Cheeto. You make me crazy."

She just giggled again, a dangerous sound.

I grabbed her chin, turning her face to mine. I wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt. But just before our lips touched, she spun around. She pressed her ass firmly against my groin and began to grind, dry humping me in perfect time with the beat. Every move stripped away my self-control. I reached out, touching her cheek, desperate. I needed to kiss her.

"Come here, Cheeto. I want to kiss you."

She pulled away instantly.

"What?!" Frustration boiled over in my chest.

She just smiled a coy, knowing smile and walked away toward the exit. I followed her like a dog on a leash. I had lost control. She was driving me insane.

She led me out to the cool air of the parking lot and hopped onto the hood of a parked car. I moved to close the gap, but she stopped me, pressing her foot firmly against my abs.

"Easy, Tiger."

"You drive me insane, Cheeto."

She just smiled. Fuck, she cannot do this. I needed to taste her lips. I tried to push past her foot.

"Oh my God! You managed to drag Daeron here!"

Laughter broke the silence. I snapped my head to the corner of the lot. Nicole and Reggie were walking toward us, laughing.

"Damn, girl. You got serious moves! You actually managed to seduce Daeron!" Nicole cackled, leaning on Jessica’s shoulder.

"What the fuck is this?" Confusion washed over me like cold water.

Reggie touched my shoulder, her voice patronizing. "Calm down, Daeron. It’s just part of the challenge, you know. Jessica chose dare."

I looked at Jessica. She sat there with a poker face and a subtle smile. It disgusted me.

"Do you think this is funny?" Anger started to burn in the back of my mind.

"Calm down, Daeron. This is a party, don’t be so tense," Nicole snapped, her sassy tone pouring gasoline on the fire.

My fists clenched at my sides. Humiliation. It was branded on my brain. I was just a toy for their game.

"Let me talk with Daeron first, girls. I’ll join you guys later," Jessica said, dismissing them. As they walked back inside, she stood up, facing me. "I’m sorry, Daeron. I wasn't trying to play you like this."

"Bullshit! You are playing with me!" My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. My heart hammered against my ribs, pumping rage straight to my head.

Suddenly, tires screeched. A car pulled up right next to us. An athletic guy slammed the door open and stormed over.

"Jess! Why didn't you pick up your phone?! What time is it now?! Let’s go home!" He grabbed her wrist aggressively.

"Wait, Sean!" Jessica pulled back, trying to pry his fingers off her wrist.

Sean?? The realization hit me like a punch. That’s fucking Sean?? So the rumor was true?? My blood pumped faster, but this time, the target of my rage shifted.

"Hey," I stepped forward, my voice low and dangerous. "Remove your hand." It wasn't a request; it was a command.

He didn't even look at me. He just shoved me—hard. The force sent me stumbling backward over the curb, and I hit the asphalt.

SNAP!

That was it. My patience evaporated. My rationality shattered.

I scrambled up, roaring, and charged him. I tackled him around the waist, driving us both into the hard concrete. I immediately started the ground and pound, raining punches down on his face. Thud. Thud. Thud.

But he was an athlete, too. He grabbed my neck, using his weight to buck and roll us over. Suddenly, he was on top, mounting me. His fists came down like hammers. I pulled my arms up, forming a tight guard to protect my head, weathering the storm. Through the gaps in my arms, I saw Jessica screaming, "Stop!!! Stop!! Help! Help!" before she turned and sprinted back toward the party.

I waited for the opening. He overextended on a punch. I clinched the back of his neck, pulling his posture down while simultaneously thrusting my knee up into his ribs.

CRACK.

I felt the rib give way. He gasped, his body seizing in pain. I used the momentum to sweep him, rolling us over again. I secured the full mount, trapping his hips. I didn't punch this time. I rained down elbows. Smash.

Blood sprayed from his nose, painting the pavement. He tried to cover up, but I trapped his left arm under my leg, leaving him defenseless. I smashed him again. And again.

MORE! MORE!! MORE!!!

"What the hell, man?!"

Strong arms hooked under my armpits, ripping me off him. It was Tyson. He locked my arms in a vice grip, dragging me back. "What happened here? You’re going to kill him!"

I stood there, chest heaving, adrenaline flooding my veins. I watched Jessica run back, falling to her knees beside him. She was crying, shaking him. Slowly, Sean stirred. He sat up, his face a ruin of blood and bruises. Jessica threw her arms around him, hugging him so tightly I thought he might break. Jones rushed over, helping the groggy, bloodied guy to his feet.

The world went mute. All I could hear was the deafening thump-thump-thump of my own heart.

Then Jessica turned. She walked toward me, tears cutting tracks through her makeup. She slammed her fists into my chest, slapping my face, screaming something I couldn't understand.

I stared at her, dazed, until the sound slowly bled back into the world. Her voice sharpened into focus.

"Why did you beat up my brother like that!!!!"

My heart stopped.

Huh. Brother?

**

The party hadn't just ended; it had imploded. It was supposed to be a night of fun, but my fragile ego had turned it into a bloodbath. I stared out the passenger window, watching the streetlights blur. Maybe I was the problem. Maybe I should just isolate myself. The students who called me a "psycho"... maybe they weren't bullies. Maybe they were just observant.

"Hey man, are you calm down now?" Tyson’s deep voice cut through the silence of the car.

"Yeah," I breathed out. "Thanks for driving me home." I rubbed my face, feeling the exhaustion hit me. "Sorry I ruined the night, man."

"Hey, it’s okay. I understand. Adrenaline makes you do crazy things."

We pulled up to the curb in front of my silent, dark house. I reached for the door handle, but Tyson gripped my shoulder.

"Hey, save my number. If you need someone to talk to, call me up, brother. Seriously. And rest tonight, don’t do anything stupid, aight?"

We exchanged numbers quickly. "Thanks, Tyson."

"Anytime, brother."

I watched him drive away, leaving me alone on the driveway. For once, I was grateful my parents were in Denmark until Christmas. I didn't want them to see me like this—blood on my shirt and shaking hands.

The house was empty, the silence deafening. I went straight to my room and sat on my bed. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a cold, creeping loneliness. I was terrified. Not of the police or the school, but of myself. I checked my phone. 1 AM here. 7 AM in Denmark.

I hit dial. I needed an anchor.

"Hello, honey. You’re still awake?"

Just hearing her voice, warm and steady across thousands of miles, loosened the knot in my chest. "Yeah, Mom."

"What happened?" She didn't even hesitate. Her intuition was terrifyingly sharp.

"I’m... not sure."

"Want me to call your dad, too? He’s currently attempting to make breakfast. Maybe you can help me talk him out of giving us both diarrhea."

I let out a weak chuckle. "Then pass him the phone. Let me talk to Dad."

"Sup, bud. I’m still cooking here," my dad’s voice boomed.

"Dad, are you trying to kill Mom with your food?"

I heard a dramatic gasp. "How did you know???? I need to poison her to get my golf stick back! It's a hostage situation!"

There was a scuffling sound, then the distinct thwack of my mom playfully smacking him.

"Jeez! Okay, okay, she kicked me out of the kitchen. I'm safe now. So, what happened, kiddo?"

"I got in a fight, Dad." I stared at the floor. "I thought I was helping... someone. Turns out, the guy I smashed was her brother."

He laughed—a big, hearty sound. "Damn, that’s a plot twist! Hahahaha. But... how’s his condition?"

"Umm, pretty bad I guess. Broken ribs maybe. I’m not sure."

The laughter stopped. His voice dropped an octave, becoming serious. "You know, sometimes we make mistakes. We read the room wrong. But a mistake doesn't have to become a disaster if you solve it right away."

He paused.

"Being a man is easier than becoming a coward, Daeron. Why? Because being a coward requires traits that simply don't exist within you. You don't know how to run away. You’re my son. I know you know what needs to be done, kiddo."

".....Thanks, Dad." My voice cracked, fracturing under the weight of his belief in me.

"Don’t worry, son. Let it out."

The dam broke. I buried my face in my hands and cried so hard my ribs ached. I let the guilt, the fear, and the shame pour out into the empty room.

After a few minutes, I wiped my face. We kept talking. Listening to their bizarre stories from Europe made me feel human again. After an hour, I finally hung up. The silence in the room wasn't so heavy anymore. I laid down, ready to put this nightmare to rest for a while.

**

6 AM. The sleep helped reset my brain, but the guilt was still there. I picked up my phone, my fingers hovering over the keypad. I texted Jessica, asking if she was awake. I needed to apologize—not just to her, but to her brother. I wanted to visit him today.

Suddenly, the phone buzzed in my hand. Incoming call: Jessica.

"Hey, good morning, Jess."

"..." The silence on the other end was heavy, breathing cold air into my ear.

"I’m sorry about last night. Can I come over? Where’s your brother right now?"

"No." The word was sharp, final.

"Jess, I’m sorry. Please, I want to apologize to your brother."

"I said No. Stay away for now."

Click.

Fuck. The dial tone hummed, mocking me. Just when I thought I could fix things, the wall went up higher. I couldn't face the world like this. I skipped school, burying myself in my room, letting the repetitive motion of video games numb my mind.

By afternoon, the cavalry arrived. Alvin, Tyson, and Jones showed up at my door, worried I was going to do something stupid. I told them everything—the call, the rejection. Jones mentioned that Jessica had skipped school too, which only made the knot in my stomach tighter. But the boys were solid. They convinced me to back off. Wait for her permission, they said.

The next day, I went to school hoping for a thaw. At lunch, I went to her class. She avoided me. After school, I waited by the gate. She brushed past me like I was invisible.

After a few days of being a ghost to her, Reggie intercepted me. "Give her some space, Daeron. Don’t be too pushy."

"Alright. Thanks, Reggie. Just... tell her I’m really sorry."

My life shifted gears. The "Jessica Routine" was gone, replaced by the "Brotherhood." I hung out exclusively with Alvin, Tyson, and Jones. We bonded over sweat and iron—Tyson and Jones joined our workouts, and I threw myself back into the Dojo to prep for the tournament. When we weren't training, we were in the library, grinding for midterms. I filled every second of my day so I wouldn't have time to think about green eyes and red hair.

December 2009. The first snow dusted the pavement. My routine was a steady rhythm of gym, dojo, and study. It was actually fun. Alvin brought the nerd culture, Tyson brought the mature "big bro" energy, and Jones... well, Jones was the chaotic engine that kept us laughing with his absolute stupidity.

Then came midterms. Thanks to our grinding, me, Alvin, and Tyson crushed it. Jones? He walked out saying, "Everything gonna be alright." Which usually meant he failed, but hey, at least he was optimistic.

The last day of exams felt like prison doors opening. Freedom. Winter break was waiting.

We walked out the school gate, high on relief, until I stopped dead. Leaning against the wall near the gate was a man. Sean.

In the daylight, I realized his hair wasn't brown. It was a distinctive, dark red. That was why I hadn't recognized him that night; the darkness had stolen the color.

"Yo, that’s Sean, bro," Tyson warned, his arm shooting out to stop me.

"Let me approach him. I still owe him an apology."

"You sure, dude? Let’s take a detour. Or wait until he leaves," Jones stammered, already shuffling behind Tyson’s massive frame.

"No. Let me talk with him. You guys stay here."

"Good luck, dude." Alvin gave my shoulder a firm squeeze.

I walked toward him. Sean pushed himself off the wall, turning to face me. The air was tense.

"Hi, Sean. I want to apologize to you." I extended my hand.

He looked at my hand, then up at my face. A slow smile spread across his lips. "You got some balls, man."

He gripped my hand—firm, respectful.

"Thank you. And again, I’m sorry. I will cover your medical costs. It was my mistake. Please let me do this."

He shook his head immediately. "No need, man. I understand. You wanted to protect my little sister. I was having a bad day, and I’m sorry for shoving you like that. I own this. I appreciate the gesture, really. It means you’re brave enough to own your mistake."

I felt the tension leave my shoulders. "Thank you, really..."

"But, I gotta ask this... Daeron, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Umm, what is Jessica to you?"

The question hung in the cold air.

"Well, she’s my friend, of course."

He squinted slightly. "Just... a friend?"

"Well, yeah, I guess. Why? Should I keep my distance?"

"No, no, it’s just..." He paused, his eyes flicking to something over my shoulder.

I turned around. Jessica was standing there, her face a mask of tension.

"You know what? Forget I asked," Sean said, clapping my shoulder. "And please don’t feel guilty, yeah? I lost my fight with you, and I own it. Besides, your intention was to help, and you were gentleman enough to talk to me. I like you, man. Drop by my place sometime. If Jessica doesn't allow it, I’ll kick her butt."

We laughed, the ice completely broken.

"Alright, I gotta go, Daeron. Don’t forget to drop by."

"Thanks again, Sean."

He smiled and signaled Jessica. As she walked past me toward the car, she paused, her voice low.

"What did he say to you?"

"Umm, maybe you should ask Sean directly."

"...."

She didn't reply. She just got into the car.

"Shit," Tyson exhaled as the boys caught up. "I thought it was going to be round two. I didn’t expect him to be such a gentleman."

"Yeah, I was expecting he’d at least give me a punch or two."

"What would you do if he punched you, man?" Tyson asked.

"I’d let him."

"Don’t worry, man, I got your back!" Jones jumped out, throwing karate chops at the air. "I got some moves!"

"Your scrawny ass hid behind my back the whole time, clown," Tyson deadpanned. "You don’t stand a chance."

I laughed, the sound real and light.

"Good job, brother," Alvin said.

"Thanks, Al."

We headed to my house to celebrate the start of winter break. I felt lighter, the burden of guilt lifted by Sean’s forgiveness. But beneath the relief, a small doubt took root. Just a friend? Sean’s question, and Jessica’s secretive reaction, made me feel like I was missing a piece of the puzzle.