Down; Not Out

               ISLA  NODS  AS  HE  SPEAKS,  knowing  firsthand  the  impacts  of  poor  mental  health.  it’s  risky,  but  she  decides  to  make  a  suggestion.  “have  you…  maybe  thought  about  seeing  a  psychiatrist  or  maybe  even  just  a  therapist?  i  think  you’re  handling  everything  fairly  well  on  your  own  but  sometimes  it’s  nice  to  have  a  little  extra  support.”               she  scoffs  at  his  question,  shaking  her  head.  while  ben  did  have  a  point,  isla  trusted  him.  she  trusted  that  he  wouldn’t  use  his  prescription  improperly  and  trusted  that  if  he  had  questions  or  concerns,  he  wouldn’t  hesitate  to  reach  out  to  her.  “typically,  yes,  i  do  advise  patients  to  take  it  easy  on  pain  killers.  but  i  trust  you  and  if  i  wasn’t  one  hundred  percent  sure  you  needed  it,  i  wouldn’t  have  suggested  it."  

Ben couldn’t help but be dismissive. It’s not that he didn’t believe in that kind of help, but it was good for other people, it didn’t apply to him. “I don’t know. Don’t think I’m crazy enough yet for a psychiatrist. Besides I have you.” He joked, and maybe it was a half-joke.

“Thanks for that.” His trainer, before everything went down, had kept his intake very regimented and avoided prescription pills like the plague. They weren’t natural, they’d said. Ben wasn’t sure what to believe except that he’d gotten through the pain then and he could do it now without too many pills.

“I don’t know.” Ben hesitated. “If it gets worse. I’ll let you know.” He said, hoping it was enough to keep her ire at bay.

It had felt like a long day, he’d had so many questions. People asking him as if he’d know just because he ran a news station. He only knew what he had been told too. 

Marcus lived alone, he didn’t eat a lot of food but he still needed to shop and he’d decided to head to the store before going home. He knew he’d never do it otherwise. He was in a world of his own as he opened up the back of his car, placing in the couple of food bags. He shook his head at the voice. “Uh what? I had just parked here. I think you should relax, my man. Everything okay?” He nodded to his car. “Do you want a lift?”

The tension melted out of him as he realized he recognized the man. Even if they’d met briefly. “Yeah. Sorry again, man. I guess I need more sleep.” He rationalized.

Ben considered the offer, not minding to walk and take the bus, but still wary about solicitors so he shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.” He was about to get into the passenger seat but he noticed a flyer on Marcus’ windshield. Ben deposited his things in the footwell and reached out to grab it before sitting back and closing the door.

”Can’t get away from these fuckers, can I?” He grumbled looking at the flyer. It stated we buy ugly houses with a large 1-800 number emblazoned beneath it. Ben shook his head. “You got trash in here.” He said, passing it over.

The solicitors looking to buy out his grandparents take the land their house was on were getting bolder. Ben had already had to change their landline number a few times and had worked to get a fence enacted around the property so they weren’t knocking day in and day out. He was sure he had seen them attending the local bingo games his grandmother would attend and waiting to talk to his grandfather when he did his couple of shifts a month at at the Maddison wellness center.

On edge already, he had got it in his head that he was being followed as he walked back with groceries.

[TXT]:  a  salad?? [TXT]:  what  an  old  man.  who  gets  a  salad  when  they  get  takeout? [TXT]:  i’m  assuming  he’s  also  having  beer [TXT]:  should  i  get…  cookies?  i  kinda  feel  like  bothering  ray  all  night [TXT]:  we  could  put  a  movie  on

[TXT]: RIGHT

[TXT]: He wouldn’t have to diet so much if he agreed to work out with me

[TXT]: Operation: retrieve the vodka is go

[TXT]:  find  the  bottle.  i  don’t  care  what  it  is [TXT]:  i  just  need  something  strong  if  i’m  going  to  be  stuck  with  you [TXT]:  no  offense,  you  know  i  love  you [TXT]:  also  ask  ray  what  he  wants,  i’m  leaving  work  soon

[TXT]: He wants a salad?

[TXT]: Do they have salads there?

[TXT]: Says he’ll settle for a chicken sandwich and fries

[TXT]:  don’t  underestimate  me  benedict [TXT]:  i  will  singlehandedly  take  you  down [TXT]:  ray,  you  absolute  angel.  i  promise  i  will  take  him  off  your  hands  soon [TXT]:  should  i  bring  takeout?  tell  ben  he  can  starve

[TXT]: That would be lovely, my dear. I’ll venmo you some money for it. 😍💗💓💘💝❣️😻🥰💖

[TXT]: Ray stood no chance

[TXT]: I’m sitting on him now

Chris shifted in his chair, feeling the faze of the other men. He yawned. But his eyes lit up at the sight of a cold beer. “I think it’s exactly what’s needed on a day like this, it’s that damn heat… it’s starting to get to me.” He smiled, taking the bottle. 

"It’s a killer!” Ben’s grandpa piped up from under a floppy fishing hat and behind big sunglasses. Ben chuckled and stretched out to hand Chris the beer.

               "BEN,“  she  says  sternly,  dark  brows  furrowed.  isla  readied  herself  to  give  him  another  one  of  her  long  lectures  but  after  a  moment  of  silence,  she  decided  against  it.  ”just…  try  to  care  of  yourself,  okay?“                  as  she  speaks,  isla  continues  to  tend  to  his  hand.  first,  she  smooths  an  ointment  over  the  area,  then  places  a  gauze  on  it  before  securely  wrapping  it  in  a  bandage.  ”it  isn’t  too  deep  but  i’d  recommend  keeping  it  covered  for  a  few  days  to  lower  the  chance  of  infection.“  worried  to  send  him  home,  isla  tries  to  stall.  if  he’s  stuck  here  talking  to  her,  he  can’t  go  off  and  get  himself  into  more  trouble.  ”do  you  need  anything  else  while  you’re  still  here?  a  refill  for  your  prescription  –  i  can  see  if  we  can  get  it  approved?“

"I don't know why you think I don't... I mean besides all the injuries. I'm trying to take care of my mental health too you know. Can’t just sit still, sometimes.” Ben admitted.

Ben nodded at her recommendations, nothing new since again he’d gotten hurt a lot over the years. 

“Could you?” Ben perked up at that, but immediately frowned again. “I shouldn’t. Shouldn’t you be advising to take it easy on the prescription bills, especially to someone with chronic pain like me?” He said, having known all sorts of addicts in his line of work. Pill addictions were some of the worst.

Mish knew Ben had a presence, she’d found that out at the festival. But he was a damn good trainer as well. “Not vodka then?” She joked, her arms shaking as she held herself up. 

She took his help. Standing to her feet and dusting off her knees. “No… my arms and legs burn. I know how important it is to work out… but oh my god i hate it so much.” She threw her head back, not hiding her disdain for the gym. 

“Not today.” Ben laughed, easily helping her on her feet. “Vodka’s only on Sundays. You’d know that if we trained more. Hm?” He challenged with a smile.

He couldn’t help but laugh, something close to a giggle. “Oh, come on doc. A little burn feels good!” He said, “But we’ll take it slower, if you want.”

Marcus held his hands up. “No judgment here. I’m pretty protective of my stuff. I like things a certain way. I get it,” he nodded. 

“No, that’s still cool. You still get to do what you’re good at and you share it with others. How long did you do it for?” He looked at him. “I don’t know, I have my pretty solid gym routines. Do you think I could?” he asked.

Ben looked at the stickers on his bottle, a lot of them from years promoting gear and other regiments, a life in stickers.

“Yeah, that’s my thinking. Grandpa taught me what he knew from the old country. Got me interested in learning more. So I’ve trained on and off for twenty years, fought professionally since I was nineteen.” He said, looking back at Marcus.

“There’s always room to improve or learn different routines. If you think you’d like to, I have free time in mornings and afternoons during the week.” 

Ben waffled back and forth on moving into training professionally. Knew it would be easy with his background and he could easily advertise with the little fame he did have. He was dragging his feet though. 

[TXT]:  you’re  the  biggest  idiot [TXT]:  you  stress  me  out [TXT]:  if  i  get  gray  hairs  at  the  ripe  age  of  28  im  blaming  you [TXT]:  but  tell  him  i  said  hi.  i  owe  him  one  for  taking  care  of  you [TXT]:  i  feel  like  i  should  be  paying  him  for  babysitting  you

[TXT]: Im hurt

[TXT]: don’t insult the injured

[TXT]: he says he’s used to helping the less fortunate

[TXT]: I NEED BOTH OF YOU TO STOP INSULTING ME

“No, soft is good.” she replied with a slight smile. She was relieved that he did not pick up on her unintended meaning and just went with it. Her eyebrows rose as she looked at the waiter who quickly hurried off to go get some oil for them she assumed. “I bet he won’t be jipping anyone out of what they should have any more. Serves him right for being lazy.” she said before sipping some water.

Malia shook her head. “You didn’t. I like your forwardness. I like your honesty. I value honesty and upfrontness in people. I’m just not used to people asking me out.” She bit her lip softly. “My relationship history has been very limited. The only man that showed romantic interest in me was my husband. My only boyfriend was my husband. I tend to scare a lot of boys and men. They’re intimidated by me because I’m not a helpless creature or soft and fragile. It’s been that way my whole life.” For some reason, she felt the need to put it things out there. Either it scared him away because she was a walking red flag or he was willing to deal with it. Deal with her. She had always been the tomboy. The one that would rather hang around the boys  than the girls. She liked getting dirty and she loved climbing trees much to her mother’s disappointment. 

“I’m kind of the same, but my drink of choice is always whiskey. Champagne is good for when I’m at an event, but I’ll always head to the bar for a whiskey drink.” It was the first alcohol she had after she and Eric snuck it from her father’s collection wanting to taste it. It was hard that first time, but they began to learn how to enjoy it as the years went on. She hoped they had a bar with whiskey here, but she wasn’t so sure since it was a wine restaurant. She looked to the side and up to him as he whispered in her ear. The breath on her ear sent some chills down her spine in a good way. She rolled her shoulders, not quite used to the feeling. “I take the lead in a lot of areas of my life. I don’t always want to do it. However, for some special people, I will take it on again.” she said giving him a half smile before looking at the menu. “The lasagna looks good. The surf and turf isn’t bad either. Can’t go wrong with steak and lobster.” She looked over at him. “I hope you weren’t expecting a woman who just eats or picks at their salad. I like to eat. I work out hard so I can eat what I want.”

Malia sipped some of the water in her glass as he explained what happened to the other guy. “Maybe he learned his lesson from that.” she said simply before looking over at him. She took him in as he looked at the wine list. He was quite fit, but that wasn’t a surprise. He had been a UFC fighter. He was trying his best to make sure she had everything that she wanted and was comfortable which was something that she enjoyed. It felt good to have someone else do the demanding of her wants instead of herself. “Do you want to be my trainer?” she asked. “For kickboxing. Your friends all seem like they know what they’re doing, but you know MMA and Brazilian jiu jitzu. You have a variety of skills that you could teach me. I think you’re the best person for the job, if you want it that is.” 

Her breath paused in her throat as he called her beautiful. No other man had called her that who wasn’t her father or husband. Hot she had heard. Bitch she had heard. Uppity woman she had heard. But beautiful was one of the rarest words that graced her ears. “You’re honest and respectful and attractive. Those are all things that I find very appealing. Things that make you beautiful to me.” she admitted softly catching his eyes. “So let’s just be our fucking selves and if we fuck it up, at least we fucked it up together.”

It wasn’t busy in the restaurant so he was inclined to agree with Malia. That’s what the tip was for. He’d know if he did a good job with them by the end of the night.

Ben was surprised by the fact she didn’t have more men after her, but let her speak and wouldn’t patronize her experiences. Others were missing out, but it ended up giving him the opportunity to shoot his shot so he was fine with it. 

“We have that in common. I appreciate knowing where I stand with people. Try not to have misunderstandings. Either I like you or I don’t. And I like you Malia.” Glad to hear they were getting on the same page.

“We don’t have to stick around. I picked this place cause it seemed fancy. But I also only drink to celebrate so it’s your choice.” He had other ways to unwind, but knew most preferred alcohol. He didn’t mind in social settings.

Ben noted that. He had no qualms with taking control of a relationship, but wouldn’t deny he got a thrill when his partners liked to order him around, bend his strength to do their bidding. He cleared his throat, to keep his mind on the dinner. “Of course.” He said, acknowledging her preferences.

Ben grinned. “I have yet to meet a non-fighter who could match me calorie for calorie, but that’s all the expectation I really have.” He said, honestly. Ben rotated his hand, could feel it was mostly healed up since it barely stretched and caught in the soft bandage anymore. “In my experience the men who go to the club don’t learn their lesson easily. He’s banned but I’m sure he’ll go somewhere else and cause problems there too. At least he won’t be my problem anymore.”

“No. I’m sorry.” Ben said firmly, looking up from the menu and looking apologetically. “I have a hard rule. I don’t train people I’m involved with. If things don’t work out I’ll gladly revisit the request if it’s still what you want, but it’s a no for now.” He wondered if he should explain, but he was still ashamed of how things had ended with his past relationship. Still had questions about how things had spiraled out of his control. He left it as it was, figured if she brought it up he would try to find an answer for her. Ben shifted to sit straighter.

Ben couldn’t help but smile at her assessment of him. Was glad he had gotten it right, that they were attracted to each other. “I can do that.” He said, laughing. “So you want to go somewhere else? We can get you some good whiskey and we won’t have to deal with the waiter.” 

[TXT]:  ben  oh  my  god [TXT]:  ice  it [TXT]:  now [TXT]:  you  should  have  told  me  sooner [TXT]:  i’m  off  work  in  an  hour  and  then  i  head  over [TXT]:  please  try  to  stay  in  one  piece

[TXT]: I know

[TXT]: not an idiot

[TXT]: I’m at Ray’s

[TXT]:  nothing  you  just  said  is  very  reassuring [TXT]:  it  was  fine  and  now  it’s  swelling? [TXT]:  what  even  happened

[TXT]: ....

[TXT]: ....

[TXT]: ....

[TXT]: car in my blind spot with my bad eye i got out of the way but stopped my fall with my hand

[TXT]: wrist is getting bigger