Bab 109: Ch-102
The mat felt solid beneath my feet, grounding me as I circled Connor. He moved with the ease of a predator, eyes locked on mine, a smug grin on his lips. God, I hated that damn grin. I mirrored his movements nonetheless, keeping my stance low and weight balanced on the balls of my feet, as he had drilled into me. I could sense that he was ready to make a move at any time. My body was so used to his small tells by now that I would be severely disappointed if he didn't.
Not one to disappoint, he came at me first, a quick feint with his left hand followed by a lightning-fast right jab aimed at my face. I leaned back just in time, feeling the air stir past my nose. He didn't pause, his right leg sweeping up in a roundhouse kick toward my ribs. I blocked with my left forearm, and instant pain shot up my bones. I ignored it and focused on the fight.
I countered with a low kick to his left leg, aiming to destabilize him. My shin connected with a satisfying thud, but Connor barely flinched. If anything, his grin widened. The asshole. He spun with the momentum, bringing his other leg around in a backkick that I barely managed to sidestep.
"Nice try," he muttered, that smirk never leaving his face.
I gritted my teeth in anger and moved in, closing the distance to keep him from demolishing me with his deadly kicks. Kicks were his strong suit after all, while I preferred my hands to fight. I launched a series of rapid punches, mixing up jabs and hooks, trying to keep my movements unpredictable. Connor, being who he was, blocked most, but I saw a flicker of surprise when one of my hooks slipped through his defense, glancing off his jaw.
He responded instantly, his knee shooting up toward my midsection. I twisted, absorbing the blow on my side rather than my gut, but the force still knocked the wind out of me. I retaliated with an elbow strike to his ribs, followed by a quick knee aimed at his thigh. My knee connected, and for a brief moment, I saw him falter.
"I can see your cockiness from a mile away, Troy," he warned, his voice calm despite the obvious pain he must be feeling. "You have yet to defeat me even a single time."
I didn't fall for his obvious taunt and kept my head in the game by pushing him back with a flurry of strikes. A straight punch to his chest, a low kick to his calf, a spinning back fist aimed at his temple—he dodged the last one by a hair's breadth, but I didn't give up. I couldn't. I knew the day of my victory would come sooner rather than later.
Then, just as I almost had him, he shifted gears. He abandoned his leg-based attacks and caught my next punch in his palm, twisting my arm in a painful joint lock that forced me to drop to one knee. Before I could react, his other hand was at my throat, his thumb pressing lightly on my windpipe. It wasn't enough to hurt, but the message was clear.
"Yield?" he asked, his voice low.
I glared up at him, but I didn't fight back. I knew I was beaten. Slowly, I nodded.
He released me and stood, offering a hand to help me up. I took it, groaning as I got back to my feet.
"Good fight," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "You're getting better."
I nodded, still catching my breath. "Next time," I managed to say, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth, "I'll get you."
Connor chuckled, shaking his head. "In your dreams, Troy."
Before I could make a smart-ass comment, someone knocked on the door, only for it to be opened a moment later.
"Tobias is here, Troy," said Maria, one of our maids.
I smiled at her. "Get him settled and offer him some refreshments. I'll be down in a few minutes after a quick shower."
Maria left me alone with Connor, who was already packing his stuff. Then he turned to me. "I wasn't lying. You are getting a lot better. Just keep on practicing, and soon you'll defeat me as well. As you are, an untrained civilian is not even a question."
"Thanks," I nodded gratefully at him. I couldn't have done it without his expert tutelage.
"And please ask Evan to find more time for these sessions. At this pace, he will never beat you, let alone me."
"He's busy shooting a student film with his school friends," I explained. "Anyway, thanks for today's lesson."
"My pleasure," Connor shook hands with me before taking his exit.
(Break)
"Tobias!" I greeted my manager enthusiastically, who was sitting elegantly on our couch, sipping tea. "Please tell me [Perks] is ready to start production."
He grimaced. "I wish. Chbosky is taking too much time to finish the screenplay and the storyboards. He wants perfection. He says it will take another two months before he's done with it."
I frowned. "I can't actually blame him for that. I want a perfect film as well, but time is money. Tell him in no uncertain terms that he cannot delay beyond two months. We have to start shooting by June at all costs."
Even if he finishes the script in two months, at least two more will be required for the casting process and other things involved in pre-production that require a director's close involvement.
"If it's not that, then why did you come here this fine day?" I asked.
Tobias hesitated as he gave me a folder. "I wanted to give you a list of all the charities that you can go to in London, as we had discussed earlier. I have marked the ones which I think would be the best for your image."
I looked at him skeptically. "You could have emailed it to me. You didn't have to come in person. What are you hiding from me?"
"Ah, fuck it!" he whispered under his breath before taking out another folder from his bag. "I have received a brand endorsement offer for you." I opened my mouth to say no when he added, "At least hear me out fully."
I absolutely hated celeb brand endorsements. Most of these celebs blindly endorse a brand without knowing anything about it, and gullible people follow in these celebs' steps like sheep. There are rarely any celebs who actually use what they endorse. Tobias knew how I felt about it.
"There is this new footwear brand called 'Crocs' which wants to onboard you as their brand ambassador," Tobias spoke out quickly. "I know how you feel about lifestyle brands, and I fully intended to decline their offer, but before I could, they sent me a lot of their slippers as samples. They were meant for you, but since I knew you didn't want them, I used them, and now, I can't use anything else. At all."
It was then that I looked down at his feet to realize that he was wearing Crocs slippers.
"I have brought some unused ones for you as well," he indicated the shoe boxes stacked in neat order behind him, that I had missed till now. "You don't have to agree to endorse them, but at least try them out. They are so comfy that if I were in your place, I would shout out to the world for free how good they are."
My déjà vu powers were working in full force now. I knew how successful of a brand Crocs was in the future. All because of one thing only: their comfort level. Most people don't like sweaty, smelly feet at the end of the day. If your day doesn't involve running or intense workouts, then these are the best footwear anyone could get. They are not the best-looking, but Crocs have no comparison when it comes to comfort.
"How much are they offering me?" I asked curiously.
"$5 million for 5 years," Tobias replied eagerly, smartly hiding his surprise at my question. "I'm pretty sure that they can go as much as $10 million. This will include at least ten two-minute advertisements during that period, along with print ads. You'll also have to wear them publicly at all times, but they are so comfy that you won't mind them at all."
"Even at black tie events?" I asked skeptically. "I don't think so."
"They will make custom shoes for you for those occasions," Tobias reassured me. "So should I start talking to them?"
"Don't push me into anything," I chided him. "Let me wear them for a few days and think this through before I make my decision. Even if I do agree with it, I will do it only if I'm more involved in the process than just advertisements."
"I'm sure they will be willing to accommodate that request."
(Break)
The corridors of St. Briar's Children's Hospital were a maze of pale walls and fluorescent lights, the sterile smell lingering in the air. My footsteps echoed softly as I made my way down the hall, guided by Dr. Victoria Rothschild, the head pediatrician.
"You didn't have to accompany me personally, Doc," I remarked casually as a camera crew followed our movement close by. "I'm sure one of the nurses would have been happy to give me a tour."
"It's no trouble at all," the good doctor waved off my concern. "You don't realize how happy you have made our entire staff. This is the first time any celebrity has come here. Usually, they go to one of those big hospitals with fancy equipment and huge funds already to their name. Your presence could very well put us on the map for donations from other philanthropists as well."
I smiled. "You may not know this, but I was born in this hospital. So of course I would come here rather than one of those fancy ones."
Although hospitals in the UK were supported by the NHS, their funds were stretched far too thin. This was the case with St. Briar's as well.
"By the way," Dr. Rothschild said, "thank you so much for your donation. It means a lot to us."
"No worries, Doc," I smiled at the woman as we stopped outside the children's common ward.
I hadn't really donated all that much. Just half a million pounds. That's because I wasn't fully sure which charity I wanted to support. There were thousands of them in the UK alone. If we consider the world, the total number is uncountable. In the end, I chose a cause that I thought would be good enough for now on paper, and if I saw positive results from my donation, I'd increase the amount in the future. I always wanted to start a charity of my own one day, but I never found a cause that was close to my heart to dedicate my free time to.
"Do the children know that I'm coming?" I asked her.
"They know someone is coming," she said mirthfully. "Your security team made sure that everyone here knows."
I chuckled at that jab. After that incident in LA, Paolo, my new head of security can get a little overprotective. He usually checks all entry and exit points before I go anywhere. Believe me, that man is a little paranoid.
Without waiting any longer, I opened the door to the ward and walked right in. As soon as I did, all the children turned to me. A few gasped, "Harry Potter," a few squealed, and a lone curious little boy came up to me and looked up with squinting eyes as if inspecting me closely.
I bent down to his level and patted his head. "Hello, lil' man."
"You can't be Harry Potter!" he said accusingly. "You are so tall! Harry is shorter."
I chuckled at his words. "What's your name?"
"Max," he replied heatedly.
"Well, Max, when people grow older, they grow tall. One day, you will be taller than even me. I'm sure of it," I said with utmost belief in my words before looking around at the other children. "Why don't you introduce me to your friends over there?"
"Fine, Harry," he said petulantly before holding my hand and leading me around to meet his friends. "This is Peter, Arjun, Brianna, and Abbie."
"Hi, Troy!" Abbie, who was an older girl of around 14, greeted me by my given name. She offered me a handshake, but I pulled her over and gave her a hug instead because I could see that's what she wanted.
"You dummy," Brianna, who was younger, called out. "He's Harry, not Troy."
"He's both," Abbie shot back after separating from me, a little embarrassed by my impromptu hug.
"No, he's not!" Brianna shot back.
The two continued bickering lightly while I was whisked away to meet another group of kids. It was a wholesome day at the hospital, that's for sure. I met so many kids in such a short period that I found it hard to remember most of their names.
Dr. Rothschild and the camera crew kept following me around as I met more and more kids, but after some time, I had forgotten about their presence. All I cared about were the little tykes running around me, one step away from giving me a God complex.
The last stop of our tour was a private room.
"Before we go in there," Dr. Rothschild began hesitantly, "I should warn you that this kid is a little sensitive."
"Oh?" I asked leadingly.
"She was…" The doctor hesitated as she took in my appearance. "I don't think I should tell it to you. You're too young for this."
Seeing her hesitance, I said, "Don't tell me about her condition, just tell me how she is sensitive."
She took a deep breath before turning to the cameras behind me. "Turn them off first."
I motioned toward the cameraman, and he got the hint. They turned off the cameras and mics and stepped a few feet away.
Seeing that we were all alone, the doctor finally said, "She doesn't like being in the presence of any male. All our staff know this, and everyone going in her room, from cleaners to nurses to doctors, all are female. When we go in, you cannot initiate any touch, be it a handshake, hug, or anything, unless she asks for it. I'm allowing you to go in only because she is a huge fan of your films."
The dread built up in my gut as I thought about the possible reasons why she could be fearful of males, and none of them were good. The most obvious one made my skin crawl.
"How old is she?" I asked in a whisper.
"12."
"Who did it?" I had a very strong suspicion about what it was.
Dr. Rothschild hesitated before saying, "I can't confirm what you're implying, but I can tell you that her father was sent to prison recently."
I closed my eyes as the realization dawned upon me. Carla Armitage may have been neglectful, but she never touched me inappropriately. It is so bad that a parent whom you are supposed to love unconditionally could do something like that.
Nonetheless, I fixed a bright smile on my face as the doctor opened the door of the room and let me in. The camera crew, being all male, was told to remain outside.
"Felicity," she called out. "Look who's here to meet you."
The girl, Felicity, was reading a book. She looked up at me as soon as we were in and pulled away in shock.
"It's alright Felicity," The doctor tried to soothe her. "He's Troy Armitage, your favorite actor. You can relax. No one will harm you."
Instead of calming down, Felicity curled up in a ball and covered herself with a blanket. The doctor turned to me helplessly, and I knew I couldn't do anything either. My heart broke again after just imagining the situation, and she had to go through with it.
"Maybe you can try talking to her slowly?" The doctor suggested.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My eyes were misty, and my throat was choking on air. I couldn't stand there any longer and without saying a word to the doctor, I exited the room.
I took deep gulps of air when I was out of there.
"There you are," Tobias said excitedly as he walked over to me. "The camera team from BBC just left. They got everything they wanted, and will make a–" He stopped mid-sentence as he finally saw me.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
I put a hand on my face to calm down before I broke down right then and there in the hospital. I don't know why I was reacting like that. This was something that I felt very deeply about. And right at that moment, I knew I had found my cause.
"I have decided," I said after regaining my composure. "I want to start a charity for victims of child sex abuse."
_____________________________________
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