In The Ring Of Love

5. The Ring Lord

It was a Sunday, my one true day of freedom.

No ballet classes, no strict rehearsals, no relentless corrections from Madame Dubois. No pressure to be perfect. No dealing with Sloane's passive aggressive comments or the stress of the final showcase.

Just me, a quiet morning, and the rare feeling of having nothing urgent to do.

Before I could process anything-

My phone buzzed, it was Clara.

I slipped into a white tank top that hugged my frame comfortably, pairing it with high-waisted, wide-leg jeans. I applied a layer of sunscreen, as I swept my hair up into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing my face.

I grabbed my tote bag and walked out, on my way to meet Clara.

I walked to the studio, dodging a guy on a skateboard and sidestepping a woman walking her four tiny dogs. I spotted Clara waiting outside the studio, leaning casually against the wall with her phone in hand. Her bright floral sundress fluttered slightly in the breeze.

The moment she saw me, she grinned. "Finally! Took you long enough."

"I am literally on time."

"Sure, but.. you're glowing." Clara asked with a grin, "What's the secret? Did something happen at the café-?

The café. Right. Just threw chocolate pastry on a stranger.

Nothing much. Nothing less.

"Ahh.

.. nothing much," I replied with a soft smile.

"But I'm planning a dance workshop for the kids at the orphanage.

"

Clara's face lit up. "That's such a sweet idea!

They'll love it. Are you going to teach them ballet?

"

"Just the basics," I said. "I want it to be fun, not too formal.

Plus, I am going to get props like ribbons, scarves, little crowns.

They're going to feel like royalty."

"If you ever need a hand, you know where to come.

" she grinned, as she proudly pointed at herself.

"Absolutely!" I said with a smirk, crossing my arms confidently. "Even though I can manage."

"Yeah, yeah." She waved me off. "Anyways, we're not going inside the studio."

I uncrossed my arms. "Then why did you tell me to meet you here?"

She smirked. "Because the gym is just a block away, and we're checking it out."

I blinked. "Wait? The one with the café?"

"The one and only," she said, linking her arm through mine. "Now, let's go see what all the hype is about."

I said with a smile. "Let's see if this gym is worth all the extra walking it made me take and–"

Clara gave me a serious look as she cut me off. "It better be. Else then I'm not forgiving them for the construction noise until they prove themselves."

The new gym was a few minute walk from the studio, she practically bounced ahead of me, her excitement infectious as she tugged me towards the new gym. "Come on, it's going to be fun!"

"You say that like we're about to go on vacation." I muttered, but I couldn't help smiling a little.

The building was sleek, modern, and honestly kind of intimidating. The glass windows revealed a bustling space inside. People working out, chatting, sipping on smoothies and coffee. It had that new and expensive vibe.

"Okay, this is fancier than I expected." I admitted.

She smirked. "Told you. Now let's get inside and judge everything."

"Remind me why am I doing this again?"

Clara laughed, her grip on my arm tightening as she led me forward. "Because, my dear, we need to break out of our comfort zones! Plus, there's a café! You're practically doing this for the smoothies."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Fine."

Clara pushed open the doors and turned to me with a grin. "Welcome to our new weekend hangout spot."

We made our way to the café area, which was tucked into the corner of the gym. It had a minimalist aesthetic. White marble countertops, sleek wooden tables.

Clara scanned the menu, humming in thought. "Okay, so do I go for the classic strawberry banana smoothie or the mysterious 'Green Power Boost'?"

I raised my eyebrows. "What the hell is the Green Power Boost?"

She read off the description. "Kale, spinach, avocado, matcha, chia seeds, and—oof—wheatgrass." She made a face. "Yeah, no. I'll stick with strawberry banana."

I chuckled and ordered a berry blend for myself. The cashier rang us up, and we took a seat near the window while we waited.

Clara tapped her fingers on the table. "Okay, be honest, this place is kind of nice, right?"

I shrugged. "It's ok."

She smirked. "Give it a week, and you'll be obsessed."

I highly doubted that, but I let her have her moment.

Once our smoothies arrived, and the moment I took a sip, I nearly sighed in satisfaction. "Okay, I hate to admit it, but this is actually really good."

Clara smirked, "Told you. Now imagine this after a workout. Peak main character energy."

I snorted. "Yeah, except I'm not signing up for a membership."

She gasped dramatically. "Oh, come on. You literally live for ballet, a gym wouldn't kill you."

"True," I admitted, "but ballet is my workout. I don't need to lift weights or do cardio. I get enough of that at the studio."

Clara pouted but didn't argue further, too busy enjoying her smoothie. "But at least agree that this place is our new post-rehearsal hangout."

I took another sip, letting the cold mango goodness refresh me. " Yea, but only for the smoothies."

She grinned. "That's all I needed to hear."

Clara wiggled her eyebrows, a smug grin spreading across her face. "Also, don't forget—I have a date with Logan today. 7 PM."

I blinked. "Oh yeah, you told me last week."

"And I'm telling you again because it's important." She tossed her hair dramatically before taking another sip of her smoothie. "I mean, come on, Ama. My first real date in ages. This is history in the making."

I smirked. "Just don't start planning the wedding yet."

She gasped dramatically. "How dare you? I was only thinking of our third date at my favorite Italian restaurant."

"Of course, you did."

"Well, I'm actually kind of nervous, which is so not like me. But he's just.. ugh, you know when a guy is too good to be true?"

I smirked. "Clara, you're literally the queen of confidence. Since when do you get nervous?"

She groaned dramatically. "Ever since I met a man who carves statues like he's pouring his soul into every piece."

I wiggled my brows, smirking. "Did he also stare at you like you're his next masterpiece?"

She choked on her smoothie, coughing as she shot a glare. "Absolutely not!" Then she cleared her throat, "Okay," she said, setting her smoothie down, "Ready to check out some classes now? Or are we just going to sip our smoothies like two old ladies?"

"Excuse me?" I sighed, and then finally give in. "Fine. Lets check out something." I said, "You check the yoga classes, while I figure out what to do."

Clara narrowed her eyes at me, sipping the last of her smoothie. "You really want me to try it?"

I put on my most innocent face. "Of course! You always say you want to be more flexible outside of ballet. Yoga is perfect for that."

She squinted. "Hmm. You are making sense."

I nodded enthusiastically. "And look! There's a session starting in five minutes. You should totally go. I'll wait for you."

Her eyes lit up. "Five minutes? That's perfect!" She paused, tilting her head at me.

And then Clara practically sprinted off the moment she finished her smoothie, her excitement bubbling over. "I'm off to try that yoga class! You should check out something fun too" she said with a wink, leaving me standing in the middle of the café with a shrug.

That's when I heard it. The unmistakable sound of punching bags being hit. The rhythmic thud-thud-thud echoed from the boxing section, drawing my attention.

Curiosity piqued, and I made my way over, wondering if it was worth checking out. I wasn't planning to get involved in any boxing shit, but I liked the intensity of it.

As I approached the ring, my eyes locked onto a figure at its center- focused and intense .

He was tall, muscles taut beneath a grey tank top, with tattoos snaking down his arms like stories inked onto his skin.

Every movement he made was sharp and precise, each punch landing with a deadly kind of grace.

Confidence radiated from him, raw and unshakable, like he owned every inch of the ring beneath his feet.

As I got closer, my eyes caught something- something I shouldn'thave noticed.

His boxing gloves.

Black, sleek, and customized. And right there, gleaming in gold, was an intricate crown design stitched onto the material.

A memory clicked into place.

Clara's words from almost weeks ago echoed in my head, "You know, Xavier Hayes, the guy they call the Ring Lord? He wears these custom gloves. Black with a tiny gold crown. Total knockout in every sense."

It was him. The Ring Lord.

And sadly also the same man I had bumped into the other day. The one with cold, gray eyes and that attitude that made me punch the shit out of something.

Him maybe.

For a split second, I thought about turning around and pretending I'd never stepped foot in this gym.

But then I reminded myself that I wasn't the one who had a chocolate pastry thrown at. If anything, he should be the one running.

"Fantastique." I muttered under my breath, standing at the edge of the ring.

(Fantastic.)

I tried to ignore the brief flicker of recognition in his eyes when they met mine, though it was clear he hadn't expected to see me here.

He barely acknowledged me, his jaw tightening as he threw another punch into the bag. He was clearly too focused on his training to care about a random ass girl standing by.

Wrong move, Sherlock. You can't do that especially if that random girl is me.

"So, the famous boxer trains at the local gym now?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He didn't react right away. He simply tightened the gloves around his hands, his expression blank, unreadable. The kind of look that made it impossible to tell if he was pissed off or just existing.

After a moment, he finally spoke. "I train wherever the fuck I want." His voice was as cold as the gray of his eyes, clipped and disinterested—like he wasn't even acknowledging me, just stating a fact.

I raised my brows. "Right. Of course. How could I forget that Xavier Hayes does whatever the hell he wants?"

His gaze flickered to me for a brief second, then back to his hands as he adjusted his wrist wraps. "If you're done wasting time, you can leave."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. Wow. Okay. Not even an ounce of patience. Not that I expected him to be nice, but damn.

"Relax, I was just making an observation." I gestured around us. "Didn't expect to see you training in a gym that also has yoga classes and a café."

His jaw ticked. He still wasn't looking at me. "What I do is none of your fucking business."

Okay, rude.

I should've just walked away. But something about his tone got under my skin.

So, instead, I smirked. "Guess that explains why you didn't even apologize after you ran into me the other day."

That got a reaction.

His eyes, sharp and cold, finally met mine. "You ran into me."

I blinked. "Yeah, but–"

"No 'buts.' You weren't looking where you were going." His voice remained even, but there was something almost condescending about it. "So don't expect an apology from me."

This guy. This freaking guy.

I took a deep breath, forcing a smile. "You know what? Forget I said anything."

"Already did." he muttered, going back to his wraps.

"You're still standing here." he added.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And? Is there a law against it?"

"If you're waiting for me to care, don't."

I let out a dry laugh. "Oh, don't worry. That was the last thing I was expecting from you."

He didn't reply. Just went back to taping his hands, like I wasn't even there. Like he was done with the conversation before it had even started.

I should've just walked away. Again. But my pride? Yeah, it had other plans.

"Y'know," I said, stepping closer to the edge of the ring, arms crossed, "for someone who literally gets paid to punch people, you sure lack basic social skills."

He barely glanced at me. "And guess who is getting paid?" at my lack of response he added, "Yeah. I'm the one getting paid."

I rolled my eyes and stepped back. "You know what? Have fun punching things."

Just before I could turn around and leave, Clara's voice rang across the gym.

"Amara!"

Oh no.

I turned just in time to see her rushing toward me, excitement practically radiating off her. Bad timing. Bad, bad timing.

She skidded to a stop beside me, barely out of breath, and then- her eyes landed on him.

She froze.

Her gaze flicked between us, her jaw dropping slightly before she whispered, way too loudly, "You are actually talking to The Ring Lord? I thought I was seeing things!"

Oh, for the love of ballet.

Clara's eyes were wide, brimming with excitement as she grabbed my arm. "You're talking to The Xavier Hayes!?"

I shot her a look, silently screaming at her to stop.

She of course, did not.

"Ama!" She whispered my name like she had just discovered I had a secret double life. "Do you know who he is?"

I closed my eyes for half a second, exhaling slowly. So much for walking away unnoticed.

Xavier, as expected, looked completely unbothered. He just grabbed his water bottle and took a sip, ignoring the chaos unfolding right in front of him.

Yea, I bumped into him the other day and now my luck had decided to curse me again.

I sighed, "Clara, please—"

Clara's eyes darted between me and Xavier like she was piecing together some earth-shattering revelation. "Wait... how do you know him?"

Before I could answer, Xavier finally spoke. "She spilled chocolate on me."

Clara gasped.

"You what?"

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "It was an accident."

Xavier shrugged, uninterested. "Didn't feel like one."

I glared at him. "Oh, please, like I planned that."

Clara was thriving off this. She nudged me. "Wait, wait! So that's why you went to that café the other day?"

No.

I nudged Clara, clearly trying to get out of here. "Okay, great talk. Time to go."

"But wait-"

I dragged her away before she could start asking for an autograph.

Once we were at a safe distance, she turned to me, eyes gleaming. "Girl. What is happening?"

I groaned. "Nothing! I ran into him at a café, and now I ran into him again here. That's all."

Clara wiggled her brows. "That's fate, babe."

"It's not fate," I grumbled. "It's bad luck."

She laughed, nudging me. "Or good luck. He's kind of-" She paused, glancing back at Xavier, "Okay, he looks a little scary, but in a hot way."

I made a face. "Ew. No. He's-" I glanced back at him too. Broad shoulders. Sharp jawline. Tattooed arms. That annoyingly attractive, aura–

"He's rude." I finished, tearing my gaze away.

"Well, that was fucking amazing! You just went toe-to-toe with him!" She said with excitement in her voice.

I couldn't help but smirk despite myself. "I'd rather go toe-to-toe with a brick wall, honestly."

"That man himself is a brick wall!" she said with a teasing smirk, "I mean did you see those biceps and those muscles?"

"I didn't." The lie came out effortlessly, even though those biceps of his would be something every freaking human would notice first.

But I didn't.

You did.

As we rounded the corner, I let out a long, frustrated sigh, covering my face with my hands.

"And I'd appreciate it if we could never talk about this again." I said.

Her smile too wide to be taken seriously. "But you have to admit, that was pretty hilarious."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I'll admit nothing."

As we walked down the street, I shot Clara a look. "And Ms. Davis, may I know why on earth were you going around screaming my name in the gym?"

"Well, excuse me for wanting to tell my girl about the yoga class schedule."

I narrowed my eyes. "You screamed my name across the entire gym for that?"

She grinned. "Nope. I was going to tell you about that, but then I saw you talking to him.. so yeah, I screamed."

"Clara..."

"Pretty much. I mean, imagine my shock. One second, I'm thinking, 'Ugh, I need to rant about yoga,' and the next, I see you standing with Xavier Hayes."

I groaned. "It wasn't that deep, Clara."

She gasped. "It was that deep. You should've seen the way you two looked at each other."

I stopped in my tracks, giving her a deadpan look. "Clara. Be so for real right now."

She just smirked. "I'm just sayinggg. The tension? Palpable."

I rolled my eyes and kept walking, ignoring her teasing. "You need help."

"And you need to admit he's hot."

"Not happening."

"Denial is a river in Egypt, babe."

Sure, it is.

I glanced at the time. 5:23 PM.

"Your date with Logan is at seven, right?" I said, arching a brow. "You better get home and start getting ready."

"Oh my god, you're right! I need at least an hour to perfect my 'effortlessly stunning' look."

Right, she totally forgot.

I smirked. "Uh-huh, because that takes so much effort."

She flipped her hair. "Beauty is art, Amore. And Logan happens to be an art guy, so I need to match the aesthetic."

"Of course," I said, grinning. "Now, go. You have a hot sculptor to impress."

She looped her arm through mine as we walked. "Well yea, but seriously? Do I go with the black dress or the red one?"

"Red. Always red."

Clara grinned. "Knew you'd say that. Alright, I gotta run."

I laughed as she practically sprinted away, calling out over her shoulder, "Text me later!"

"Sure!" I called out.

At least one of us was having a normal, romance-filled evening.

I went to the store to get everything I needed for the workshop.

I carefully chose bright ribbons, colorful scarves, and even small bells to add a fun touch to the workshop. Then, I spotted something perfect—a set of inexpensive foam crowns. The kids would love these.

Once I had everything, I headed home to sort it all out. My living room quickly turned into a full-on craft station as I cut ribbons to the right length and attached little bells. The soft jingling filled the air as I tested each prop, making me even more excited.

The theme was simple- bright, cheerful, and full of joy.

I also worked on something special. A big cardboard tree. Its trunk was made of brown paper, and the leaves were cut from green felt. But it wasn't just for decoration—it was part of a game. I made small, colorful paper apples for the kids to write their dreams on and stick onto the tree.

By the time I was done, I was surrounded by ribbons, paper scraps, and little bells, but it was worth it.

──────

Dear Diary,

14th July, 2024.

A random Sunday. A chill, peaceful, uneventful Sunday. Or so I thought.

The day started off well—no ballet, no deadlines, no one yelling at me to point my toes more. Just me, my coffee, and a glorious nothing to do kind of morning. But of course, the universe heard that and went, Oh honey, think again.

She dragged me to the new gym, and I, being the baddie I am, I let her.

Let's ignore the fact that she threatened me via text.

We got smoothies, which were chef's kiss, and then I very graciously suggested she try out a yoga session.

And by that, I mean I forced her into it so I could escape.

But instead of walking out like a normal person, my genius self wandered to the boxing ring.

And boom.

There he was.

At first, I just saw some guy throwing punches like his life depended on it. Then I saw the gold crown on his gloves and realized—ohhh. The Ring Lord. The undefeated champion. The human equivalent of a thunderstorm.

And also, the same guy whose shirt I accidentally ruined with chocolate pastry two days ago.

So yeah. That was awkward.

And of course, Clara had to show up at the worst possible moment. The one time I actually needed her not to scream my name across a crowded gym. But nope, she saw me talking to The Xavier Hayes and practically lost her mind.

Then, as if I hadn't already had enough, I had to remind her about her date with Logan. Because that's what best friends do—we save each other from making a fool of ourselves and from showing up late to fancy dates.

So, in conclusion ─

Even Sundays aren't safe for me.

I need a nap. And boxing gloves so I smack off that smile off his face.

-Amara 3