BLOODHOUNDS #3: The Malice

Leila Morrow

I'm a workaholic, and I need help.

That statement has been going into my mind lately. I usually work four to five days a week, from ten to twelve hours. As a sports photographer, I must always be ready because everything happens simultaneously, and you can only choose one specific scene to shoot.

That's why there are at least four sports photographers in a game.

Lately, I've been taking more shifts because Poppy was sick. She got into an accident recently that caused her to break her ankle.

She was skateboarding. Yeah, I know.

That's why I've been doing her work and mine. I've been going to the stadium daily to take photos of the players, the game, the practice, and even the mascots. Adding the fact that I've been working for twelve days straight without rest.

I'm a living zombie, and today is my last shift for the week.

Jaz gave me four days off because I looked tired and always worked extra to fill Poppy's place. Poppy thanked me and promised to treat me to a nice dinner once she recovered.

Now, I only have 5 hours left to finish my shift.

I'm this close to freedom.

I grabbed my camera and walked out of the staff waiting room. I make my way to the second floor of the bleachers so I can take photos when the stadium fills with fans. I smiled, seeing the combination of red and white.

My eyes caught a little kid running towards his dad with a hotdog, and he yawned so big, causing me to yawn with him.

I'm so tired and sleep-deprived that I know damn well that the last five hours will be hell. I grabbed my tripod and walked out from the second floor to go down. I need to hold my other camera lens.

Because the game will start in ten minutes, the place is so crowded, with fans rushing to get into their seats. My body tried to keep up with it because I was against the crowd.

"Almost at the stairs, Leila."

Before I could reach the stairs, I was pushed by the crowd to the side. My first instinct was to save the camera because it's my lifeline. As I took a deep breath and held on to my tripod for dear life, someone bumped into me from the back and casually kicked my tripod.

Everything happened in slow motion.

My eyes were set on the camera, slowly kissing the floor, shattering itself into small pieces. My first reaction was my eyes popped out of its socket, and I screamed. I turned to the man in a suit who kept walking with his friends.

I ran towards him and grabbed him by the arm, turning his attention to me.

I gasped when I saw his face. His short black hair was styled neatly, making him look approachable. His dark brown eyes were captivating like it's hypnotizing me into oblivion. His glasses made him look like he conquered the world. This is my first time seeing such beauty from a man. How can he be approachable and intimidating at the same time?

"What the fuck do you want?" His first cold remarks made me realize why I stopped him.

"Are you fucking blind?!" I screamed at him and showed him what he had done to my camera. My eyes were glued to his as he turned to the man beside him.

"Did you trip her?"

"You did, sir."

"Give her fifty thousand dollars." He told the man beside him, making me raise my eyebrows and tilting my head to the side.

What is wrong with this man?

"You bumped into me and destroyed my camera." I was pissed, and those words came out like a sharp blade. His dark brown eyes were looking down at me.

He was mocking me.

The man beside him gave me a check for thirty thousand dollars and twenty thousand dollars cash. My eyes were locked with his, and he didn't even bother apologizing for the damage he had done to me.

"We're sorry, miss." With that, he turned around, putting his hands into his pocket, and left like he accidentally bumped into the air.

I put the check and the money into my pocket. I grabbed a plastic bag from the food stall and put all the shattered camera pieces into the bag, saving the memory card. Jaz will kill me for this, and I just lost my lifeline, which made me so angry.

He didn't even bother to say sorry.

My eyes were glued to the camera, and I cried as I ran to the office where Jaz was. When she saw my camera, she gasped. She knew exactly what I felt when I saw it broke, and she looked at me with her jaw on the floor.

"What happened?"

"A man bumped into me and tripped my tripod." She looked at the plastic bag in horror.

"What did he do after you told him?"

"He gave me fifty thousand dollars to pay for the damage, but he didn't say sorry."

"Who and how can someone have that much money on the spot?" I was wondering the same thing.

"Take my backup camera and get to work. We can't waste our time for now." She's right. I grabbed her backup camera and promised not to break it. She trusted me and gestured for me to go.

I went down to the field to photograph the players warming up. I was busy taking pictures of the Red Eagle team and had to move on to the White Claws team when my eyes caught the sight of the man who bumped me earlier.

He talked to the White Claws' coach like he owned the team. His eyes were observing the players' every move, judging them with his dark brown eyes. The coach nodded at everything he said like he was a fucking god.

After that, he went to the VIP seats with his minion.

I checked the time, and there were still twenty minutes before the game started, and it would be enough for me to teach him a lesson. I ran towards the food stall and bought two big cups of Coke. My heart beat in excitement as I made my way to the VIP section.

The guards let me in after seeing my lanyard and my camera. I put the cups on the table and put my camera on the seats a few rows behind him. When I approached him, my chest was boiling in anger.

I need to teach him a lesson.

When I approached him, he didn't even look at me. He and his minion's eyes were locked onto the White Claws team. I threw both coke-filled cups straight at his face without any warning.

"Fuck you, asshole."